Words to Tie to Bricks (8 page)

I can taste. That is the best of all senses, for without it I could not appreciate the true joys of this heavenly item. For without tasting it, one confines themselves to the role of a
spectator, unable to participate in the glorious triumphs of this action. Honestly, who wants to eat a dinner they can’t taste?

S
AMUEL
H. D
OYLE

One night I heard scrabbling paws

In the dark guided by your sensitive nose.

A face appeared framed with light whiskers,

As I ran to you, you began to purr.

In the dark I could see your eyes shine

Simply expressing your love.

The fireside armchair you used to love

Is now torn and scarred by your velvet paws,

The tatters as your memorial shine.

I remember how you sniffed the chair with your nose

Prompting me to laugh with your purr

As I teased your ticklish whiskers.

I still have a picture, your whiskers

Curled up in the style we all love,

I can nearly hear you purr.

There are still mucky marks of your paws

Along the tracks you followed with your nose,

Wet and gleaming, a natural shine.

It’s hard to forget how the lamps would shine

Brightly upon your silvery whiskers

Twitching with the movement of your little black nose.

You were the one pet I cared to love

With your tiny cute paws

And the sweet growly purr

As you grew older you wanted to purr

The night away in the moonshine.

You appeared to have no paws

In the dark that concealed your whiskers

That was a sight I used to love

Only given away by your glistening nose.

Years ago you would nuzzle your cute nose

Up against my hand and purr,

Enticing me to demonstrate my love

By stroking your glossy fur until the shine

And luminescent glow of your whiskers

Reflected on your happy pattering paws.

I remember how your nose in the lamplight used to shine,

How your purr reverberated through your cheeky whiskers.

I still keep my love alive though you have stilled your paws.

A
NNA
M
ULLIGAN

You were just an innocent bystander;

Just watching a foreign movie

Without subtitles.

I’m the one who locked this door

Between us; but a part of me wonders

If you ever even tried the handle.

I can’t forget that when I was most alone

I was with you.

C
ONOR
K
ELLEHER

A is for the AA meeting where you met her.

A is for the attempts she makes to get better.

F is for the friends who don’t have a clue.

F is for the fears that they have around you.

T is for the trauma she carries around.

T is for the times when she can’t make a sound.

E is for the every day she lives with this.

E is for the ending you wish could exist.

R is for the right words that you never knew.

R is for the reversing you wish you could do.

T is for the trauma you tried to carry around.

T is for the times she couldn’t be found.

H is for the hurt that she knows she’s dished out.

H is for the hope she has, too quiet to count.

O is for the optimism that got you so far.

O is for optional: that’s all that you are.

U is for the understanding, you don’t know what it’s for.

U is for the ultimatums, why not make some more?

G is for the good times you’ll never achieve

G is for the going. Great. Leave.

H is for the hurt that you know you’ve dished out.

H is for the hopes you have, too few to count.

T is for the trauma left lying around.

T is for timeless: you’ll never be refound.

S
EAN
C
ERONI

Take me to the forest,

Where all the flowers grow,

Cover me in lilies,

And leave me there alone.

A
MY
C
AMPBELL

M
Y REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR
greets me as I walk in, a silent reminder that after all that I have lost, I still have myself. It’s crazy, because
that’s the one thing I really hadn’t wanted to keep. There is a moment of hesitation, a few fleeting seconds when I almost think that my life is worth something. Then I laugh. It
punctures the silence in the room like a needle in a balloon. Who am I kidding?

With the first drop of blood that falls from my wrist, I breathe a sigh of relief, because finally I feel something. After months of fake smiles and self assurances that I am happy, this is
something real. The blood pumping out of my wrist shows me that I am a person. I’m crying now, all the tears I’ve been holding in for months. And then, using the scalpel stolen from the
science lab, I draw more blood.

I look at myself in the mirror. Mascara down my cheeks, messy blonde hair, dirt and blood on my dress. This is the furthest from perfect I’ve ever been. I make another incision on my arm,
deeper this time. I am frustrated, ready for this to be over. Finally, I feel myself getting dizzy. My eyelids begin to flicker, and I lose the strength in my legs. As I sink down, my grip on the
scalpel loosens, and it clatters to the floor. I don’t need it anymore anyway. Not where I am going. I am leaving high school behind; all the bullying, the drama, the betrayal. My eyes close
for the last time. My heart rate becomes more uneven. This is it. At last.

I hear the door of the bathroom open, and then I hear a scream. A cry for help. More people coming. They are getting closer, feeling for a pulse, calling an ambulance. One or two of them tell me
to hold on, not to die. But they can’t fool me. I am on my way to my better place, nearly there now. They won’t be able to catch me.

I hear the battle cry of a siren in the distance. That was quick. But now my time is nearly up. I will outrun them all. Slowly, all the noises begin to fade out. The laborious beats keeping me
alive slow down. I am finally done. All I can see is darkness; all I can hear is silence. I am coming home. The world slows around me, until it is nothing but an imperfect blur filled with
imperfect people like me. Maybe that’s all it has ever been. I feel my heart beat one last time, and then it gives up.

I smile.

O
RLA
M
C
G
OVERN

External, jerky and stiff,

Internal, squishy and sad.

E
MMA
S
HEVLIN

The rain makes up

For the tears I lack.

The love I once had

Will not come back.

He ruined it for

The rest of the boys.

I’ve put it away

With all of my toys.

I’ve locked love up