They call me a **** Tell me I’m a ***** That I’m fat And that I’m ****. Yet they don’t know that when I go home I hear it all again. The students voices echo in my mind. The long sleeves I wear to school even in 90 degree weather covers the scars. I try to become invisible, to walk by unnoticed, but it never works. They sense my presence and lash out at me, Like a wolf on it’s prey. I go home and cry myself to sleep. Every night their words echo in my ears, never going away. Messages with the same words heard every day. Suggestions of killing myself. It wouldn’t make much difference Just one less person crowding the halls. One less person silently screaming inside. One less person to believe I’m worthless. Tears stream down my face as she ***** the gun. The song that originally saved my life begins to play. I close my eyes, and with a deep breath he pulls the trigger. The only thing left of me being the note that I wrote. “I’m sorry...I can’t do this anymore” with blood splattered across the pages.
Just a persona poem I wrote it was kind of in response to someone else's persona poem. Her's was about being the bully mine is about being the bullied (obviously).