You were young, barely 16.
****** into a world of hate and pain.
You were sensitive and fragile.
Too soft for this world.
You took your life in front of the room we shared our favorite class.
The cops said you did it the night before.
I cant get the image of your cold body hanging from the gutter out of my mind.
Why did you do it?
Were you scared?
Were you sad?
Were you bullied?
The cops said the only two things you had on you were your rubix cube, and the signed ticket to the play we saw together.
You were always playing with that **** rubix cube, showing it off and messing around.
I won’t be able to look at one ever the same.
I still have the picture i took of you with the cast members.
The smile from ear to ear as you went through and showed me each signature and told me who they played in it.
Every day i see something that reminds me of you.
Should i follow in your footsteps?
Today marks a week since you took your own life.
Im full of sadness, guilt and anger.
How do i move on from this.