This is for girls who have survived a series of suicide attempts, like me
Who have been called selfish for decisions they did not make
Girls who have been taken down from ropes by weeping loved ones
A little too late because a part of them had already died
Who even in their most happy hours, death lingers above their heads
What a chance taker!

Girls who translate their thoughts into words
And on bad days translate their words into suicide thoughts
Girls like me who took a couple of pills in an attempt to end it all
Call me what you must but I call it bravery
Because when death knocked on my door I put on my brave cape
And did not fear
Looked at it in the eyes and did not blink or twitch
I spoke to my God and said “If this is how I must go so be it.”

Girls who are numb to physical pain
Who slit wrists on bathroom floors and behind closed doors
Girls who have written a dozen unfinished suicide notes
Stashed under their pillows
A couple of sad poems under their mattresses
Do you even know what it feels like to die every night
And still have to drag your own corpse in the morning?
Do you know what it feels like to have to choose to live every day?
I say to these girls, we are living miracles
Our scars should remind us every day that we are living miracles