The Result of My Timidity

I gained a pinch of inspiration for Anne Marie Caughell's poem "The Girl With Death In Her Eyes."

I wrote this a little while ago and wasn't sure if I should post it because it was so sad. But I decided I would. It's sad, but there's truth in it, too.



I was looking in the mirror


And she looked back at me


A face with scars and blemishes


And unattractive deformities.


Turning away from the ugly sight


I saw you standing there.


Your jeans so dark and stylish


And your beautiful hair.


Your nails blinded me


With their brilliant shiny paint.


In contrast to my sinful self


You played the perfect saint.





I asked you for a couple tips


So I could be as pretty


You looked me up and down as if


I was so itty bitty.


"A touch of foundation there," you said.


"And there, and there, and there, and there."


You touched my ponytail with disgust,


"What product do you put in your hair?"


You caught my eye and held it tight


With a disapproving glance.


"Shampoo...and then I rinse it off."


You leaned back to distance us.





You listed lots of brand names


I'd never heard before.


But just at that moment I'd seen something


And I wasn't listening anymore.



It was on the chair you'd sat on,


I say it lying there.


A cell phone showed a text message

That I could barelly read from here.


"ur the wrst gf ever,"


I could barelly read all.


You reached up to fix my hair,


And I saw the marks of needles.


Now that I looked with sympathy


Upon your pretty face


I aw your foundation covered


A bruising on your face.



"You should part it down the middle..."

Was that what you said?



Your bracelet slipped down and I saw



Where you'd drawn your own blood.


"Thanks for the tips," I said




When you declared that was it.




"No problem, any time,"



You said and turned to leave.

I waved and flashed a smile

But inside was a nagging thought




"Stop her! You must help her!"




And I replied, "But...but."





You grabbed your cell as you walked passed



And headed for the door.





I'll never forgive myself




For not stopping you before.

It was a week later that I heard you were pregnant.

A week after that they found you dead.

Your tips were effective, thanks for helping me.

But I wish with all my heart, I had helped you instead.

Oh God please forgive me

For killing your daughter.

For by being a little timid,

I committed manslaughter.