Sacrosanct

Inside everyone there's an emo trying to get out. Here she is:

You will not be remembered. Well, you might,
But not for something good, something you’d like
To be remembered for. But something else –
Some misremembered anecdote one tells
In front of weeping relatives amassed
Inside some faceless edifice. At last
Those quarrels are forgotten (for a while)
As kith and kin compete to show a smile
Between brave tears. And no-one dares to say
“I didn’t really know her.” Anyway,
That’s not the point – you cannot be the one
To say “She’s nothing special” now she’s gone.

They probably won’t mention how you died,
And will conceal all the times you tried
To disappear; to leave this world behind.
No, eulogies will emphasise the kind
Of things a eulogy’s designed to do
The times you cared for others, or when you
Said something really funny, or perhaps
Made some silly mistake. That little lapse
Of concentration – something really small
That made us laugh, but caused no harm at all.
They’ll talk about the scholarly success:
Certificates collected in excess
Of those around you; competitions won
And musical prowess, and all the fun
You had together - every football match
You cheered at, every evil plan you hatched
With your contemporaries, and all those beers
That you enjoyed together through the years.

They won’t mention you curled up on the floor
Shaking, the bloodstains drying on the door.
They all know now and wish that they had known
Then how you’d felt so desperately alone,
Had pulled apart the curtains every day
And wondered if you’d ever find a way
To leave all that anxiety behind,
That clawing sense of failure, and find
Some drug to somehow stem the rising fear
And panic, the inevitable tears.
But you couldn’t. And now what’s done is done.
The world will find a way of moving on
And you will find your memory enshrined
For evermore in some campaign for Mind
Or somesuch charity. And now it’s true,
Ironically, the "loser" that was You
Is living an unlikely legacy
In death. Now tell me, are you really free?
Did you succeed when we all felt you’d lost?
And did you ever stop to count the cost
Of this, your Master plan? And will you be
Remembered, or made sacrosanct? We’ll see.