Dear Amanda Todd

Dear Amanda Todd,

I saw the video you posted

about bullying, and mistakes

you made, and pain you were in.

You were only 15, holding up

hand-written signs instead of speaking,

silenced already. You were reaching out

for anyone to help you, the raw hurt

so alive it crawled off the screen

and into me, leaving me with a heaviness

that didn’t lessen. I decided to write you,

to tell you that 15 doesn’t last, that there

is another life ahead where you can be

anybody you want, if you just hang on.

Talk to me, Amanda Todd, but don’t give up.

I can help you. I went back to the computer

to find your email – looked you up – and saw

“Amanda Todd commits suicide after being

tormented” and my breath is knocked away,

because I didn’t get to you. Nobody did.

And I am so sorry. We all let you down.

Frozen there, I see I have a message.

It’s from my own 14-year-old daughter, and it

says, “I don’t want to be alive anymore.”

Panic grips me. How do you save 14?

Maybe you would know, Amanda Todd,

maybe you could tell me.

But you are gone.

 

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enough

started to write

good bye

letter this morning, but then

i remembered

i had an appointment to convince you

that i’m ok

that i’m not a danger to myself

i can’t cancel

or you might worry that there’s something wrong

so i put myself together

picking up all of the pieces from the floor

and i’m here

before i left,  i checked – clean clothes, clean hair, clean teeth

i know what you look for

normal

but as i’m telling you i’m ok i start to notice cracks in my normal

my socks don’t match, my nail polish is peeling, scratches all over my arms

i am not convincing

myself

but you let me go when i assure you i will return in one week

i leave

relieved and scared, normal enough to return

to finish

writing

my

good-bye

letter