“I wish I had met you sooner. If you were mine when I was sixteen
I never would’ve fallen for that boy in my chemistry class
and cracked my head open on his chest.
I couldn’t see straight for 3 weeks after that.
And maybe if I had known you since I was a little girl
I never would’ve gotten sad enough to cut myself,
a tick mark in my skin for each time my mother cried.
And if we had met two summer’s ago
I probably would’ve been asleep in your bed
instead of in my big sister’s car
when she crashed it
and I could’ve twirled my fingers around your hair
instead of pulling the strings out of hospital blankets.
If we had met just a few months sooner
I’d probably never know the taste of too many pills
because my mouth would be too busy
telling you that I love you.
I know that people can’t save you,
I’m just saying, I think that if we could go back in time,
and kiss before the night the fire in my bedroom
washed away the blood stains on my carpet,
I wouldn’t know what it’s like to mean it
when I say I want to die.”