The Girl and The Pass Tense

I use to think about killing myself

Leaving the world in a bang.

I used to question how I would do it

With a gun or should I hang?

The stereotype that girls are clean than guys use to make me mad

It made me think if, as a girl, was I bad.

I use to never clean my room

A “hot mess” mama use to call it

Not is stays empty and dark

I used to drop food on the floor as I walked through the hall,

My sister to yell at me about it

No I can’t even hear her at all.

I found it sad that girls were deemed prim and proper and even in death they maintained that look

That even in death, they cared more about their parents having to not clean up than anything.

I laugh now, but then it would me heated

To know going out with a bang was all guys, and girls couldn't beat it.

I so I used compete with my friend

I would compete to see if he was more “boy-ish” than me.

We’d use to run and climb

And fuss about who would win, every time

I used to hold my breath underwater for minutes at a time

Until he got tired and jealous and paid me no mind.

And all the while this was happening,

I would walk through the room and drop crumbs

I would sleep...with clothes on the bed.

And I would jump and climb with my friend

All the things I used to do, no longer matter

I’m no longer myself

But there is one thing I did do that would never be put on the shelf

I open my window, real wide

And step on my chair and look up at the sky

I guess they were right about girls.

Because instead of a gun

I chose to hang and die.