This weekend I hosted our very first book club. We read Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher. We drank wine. We ate carbs. We spent three hours discussing the book and relating it to our lives. It was beautiful.
As a reminder: Thirteen Reasons Why is about a teenage boy who receives a package with thirteen cassette tapes in them detailing why one of his classmates committed suicide. They are essentially blame tapes and each person involved must hear the entire build up to her death and then live with one another with the knowledge that certain other classmates may have committed crimes they might not have the guts to report. It is an interesting read that, time allowed, shouldn’t take more than five hours to complete.
You should read this book because it will make you feel. It might make you look at your life and your actions, both past and present, and make you realize how some things lead to other things and how sometimes they’re not good.
We pulled up a discussion sheet off the internet and went through them in detail.
We discussed suicide and friendship and how heartbreak and betrayal and different and we pointed out weaknesses and strengths in one another that led to other realizations.
I am incredibly proud of us.
I am the first line of a novel
too difficult to read.
A sentence reread so many times,
it becomes engraved in memory.
Like if someone were to mention my name,
one would say
“she was the best of times, she was the worst of times”
and those someones would think me well loved.
I am a dust collector on the shelf of every person I was ever recommended to.
The floor is still wet from last week’s rain.
A vicious tap routine on the rooftop.
Our souls intertwined as our bodies realigned
to the noise outside the window.
I remember it like I remember a dream.
In drips and drabs and your face a blur
and me watching us from the heavens.
You looked the other way
as your rough hands caressed
my humble breasts
like they were too afraid to hold my heart.
Like all they knew was to rip apart.
I moved with you
in waves that slowly swelled
to crash on the shorelines of my hips.
Your tongue traced lies upon my lips.
I said I wanted this.
See, my mind took pieces of you that it liked
and threw pieces of you that it didn’t aside.
So only the perfect of you could shine.
It wasn’t the wrong place or the wrong time.
It was the wrong thinking that you were mine
while knowing that you were hers first.
You were heavy and I was weak.
Loneliness will do that to your mind.
I got so caught up in your misery
that I believed there was a place for me
inside of a thing I was forced to hide.
Like maybe if she had treated you better
then you wouldn’t be looking for better outside.
For believing I could fix what I didn’t break
and in turn break everything for a lonely fix.
The floor is still wet from last weak’s reign.
Megan C Lucas