They called her a loner
Eyes downcast
Poetry about the pleasures
Of death
Choker like a hangman's noose
They called her depressed
Bandages on her wrists
To hide the blood seeping
From her wounds
Haunted face
Black clothing
They called her a loner
They called her depressed
Until she wasn't
Until she was gone
Then they tried to forget
What she wanted them to remember:
That they had made her
What they had called her
