Death and Pom-poms…or A Very Serious Poem About Cheerleading

Another poem from my past. Go. Poetry. Go, go, go poetry. 
Death and Pom-poms
by Alexa L., written November 3, 2008
She hate, hate, hated me 
more than chirping blondes that crooned 
over six- packs and pom-poms, 
doctors with stained teeth 
and needles they used 
like heroine, rubber bands tied 
around clipboards and death wishes. 
More than bombs that exploded with words 
like “we need to talk” 
or “I’m sorry for your loss.”  
Who’s sorry, she whispers 
into paper napkins she scrunches and bunches, 
blows into the wind with a flick of breath, 
then groans and says she hates me 
for falling from the pyramid, 
reaching its peak then tumbling forward, 
without a seatbelt, 
through the window, 
white pom-poms turned dirty red on the street.

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