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May 2015
I wake up in the morning, my door still locked from the night before
Where I hid myself from the world.
Standing at the bus stop, hoping no one notices the cuts on my wrists or my red, blood shot eyes.
Roaming the halls I generally tried to avoid them, but they always seem to find me, again, and again.
Lunch is the same as always, I'm sitting alone, hoping someone notices me...all I need is a friend.
The bus ride home is full of more taunting...all because I love someone of the same gender...
I finally get home, I do my normal routine, go upstairs to my room, lock the door, and get out my razor.
I'll spend about an hour or so, making the same motions over and over again, thinking...I can't change who I am...
My mom comes home and says that she is starting dinner, I tell her okay, it'll be about an hour.
After dinner I read the texts that the others from school sent me...all the same...mean...discrimination against me...
I'm in my closet...with the chair...and the rope I took from the garage...I'm crying at the note I just left at my door...I go and I knock the chair from under my.
This is a poem that involves a countdown. It is also partially based off of the song Make It Stop (September's Children) by Rise Against.
Connor Buckingham
Written by
Connor Buckingham  Westfield, IN
(Westfield, IN)   
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