Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Megan Meier (by Ellen Herget)

I am Megan Meier, 

or at least I was.

Thank Universe there was no myspace

when I was 13, or I

would’ve hung myself in my closet too.

They released her words today,

the last she ever wrote,

addressed to a boy who didn’t exist:

You’re the kind of boy a girl 

would kill herself over.

Megan Meiers of the world (myself when I was 13),

there is no kind of boy to kill yourself over.

Especially some 14-year-old douchebag

with an emo haircut your 40-year-old neighbor

invented to break your heart because someone

broke hers I suppose, though I’d rather

stab her than pity her,

or hang her from a closet with a belt

her mom bought her at Target.

(Does Megan Meier’s mother think

of that shopping trip and wonder,

if only I hadn’t bought that belt?)

Megan Meiers of the world (myself when I was 13),

I promise it gets better.

The cramps stay but the words fade

and by the time you’re my age

everyone knows how fucked up they are

and quits compensating by forging myspace messages-

most do anyway-and you can skim

off the ones that refuse to grow up and grow kindness, 

like a scythe cutting through wheat,

like checking boxes in the upper left 

and clicking delete.

Megan Meiers of the world (myself when I was 13),

I have my own place now--it’s lovely.

I keep the windows open and the sun pours in

with the rain.  I have a cat 

that’s mine, I chose her.  I have a friend

who doesn’t compete,

she complements. Boys still 

blow me off, but who gives a fuck, 

I’m grown and their judgment

doesn’t reflect me but their own tired fears.

I try.

Megan Meiers of the world (myself when I was 13),

I know each gym class is a lifetime,

each word burns as a brand,

that it feels like a child-boy’s love 

will save you. But you can wake

and be your own, if you’re brave enough,

and please be brave enough. The world

needs you.  I need you.

Close your closet door and wear

your belt at your hips

because change will come,

and things never make sense--but

it doesn’t hurt as much.

I promise.

I promise.


yes said...


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