Author's Note:
Just to let people know I don't even own a gun nor do I plan ever shooting anybody or anything. I don't even go hunting with my dad. And there is obviously a second part to this. End the Author's note here.
I go to class.
The clock is ticking.
Everybody's laughing.
They start to whisper.
The bell rings for class
to begin.
The teacher tells everybody
to settle down.
I feel their eyes on my back.
Thoughts running through
my head.
"Lesbian, slut, dyke, dirtball."
The drug addict laughs again.
I look back.
He's staring at me.
I snap.
I call him a bastard as I grab
the gun from my purse.
I don't even hesitate to pull the trigger.
Blood and brains splatter on the wall.
Everybody screams and tries to run.
Should I let them run?
Or shouldn't I?
I laugh at them all.
As they wonder if they're going to
make it out alive.
YOU ARE READING
Dangerous Thoughts During Junior Year.
PoetryThese are just some poems or thoughts that I had during my junior year. Maybe some of you can relate. If not I hope you think my style is good.
