I never knew her barely saw her heard about it from the teachers they all told us not to worry not to call the hospital they all said that everything was fine I think I know I guess they lied maybe they were trying to protect us but for me they made it so much worse the shock of death was emphasized we had no way of knowing what was really true we had no way of showing didn't know what we could do and in the sudden stunned silence after they made the announcement half my class burst into sobs tried to hide tears clumsily the other half we just sat there silence held and sacred till the bell rang ten minutes later and harsh noise smashed what we had kept so close

They wrote her name everywhere
That she had ever been-
You can visit her locker
On the second floor of the east building
I pass it on my way to math.
The harsh warnings about
Desecration of school property
Have been discarded, set aside
And the scribblings from so many silent hands
Dance their way across the surface.

What am I supposed to do it it's a kid I never knew I can't say that I can miss her never knew her we were parts of different crowds and our groups they never mixed but there were people crying in the hallways and that made me want to cry too but I knew that I would never I knew I never had a right to and none of us could mention it beyond hushed whispers common answers "Did you hear about that car" and "Oh my god it's horrible"

Once-wet now-dry concrete
And brick walls around the school
Bear silent stoic witness
To the lives she left behind
Bathroom walls and bathroom stalls
Desks and doors and chalkboards
It was a flood of slow graffiti
Loops of permanent-marker-writing
Mourn with every curve they make

There was no way to escape reminders not way to leave thoughts behind and I wonder if she would want to be immortalized like the messy scrawls on walls and stalls a sign of love of hope I knw but will they ever let her go and time they say it heals all wounds but scars can ache and pull and sting and maybe I've no right to talk about what happenned that day on that crosswalk because I was never more than a bystander in her life and I was barely even that but what else am I supposed to do I've held my silence through and through and I didn't dare pretend I knew I didn't fake some understanding so for those of you who never spoke it's time to throw your hand in and you don't have to be that loud if you're still not sure what it's about just say something let it go and don't bother to make excuses if what you're saying is the truth and they made her a saint when she left but I don't know if she was that and it is nice that they can hope that they can cling to that one thought but I think if they faced the truth we might all be just better off.

(This is in both the prose and the poetry section, because I wasn't entirely sure what to classify it as.