I grow my mustache to feel fresh when I shave it, someone else washing me off, putting me on and fooling everyone.  Halloween lasts all year when you’re hiding from yourself.  Face it, you told me.  Now I’m listening and you’re lips are sealed.  Literally.  You’re stitched up like a doll under your dress, bottom to top.  Emptied and stuffed, I know it.  Organ donor’s on my license too.  I’m ready.  Believe me.  Some of us slit our wrists and miss, others pop pills and puke.  Three times more girls try, four times more boys succeed.  Girl, you’re my hero.  You pulled it off.
            I touch you and you don’t move.  
            The hand on my shoulder clenches.  The choir sings.  My ears ring and I can’t see.  You were the ground beneath me and you’re gone.