Bitch. Whore. Slut.
The words roll off their tounge like knives.
Fag. Ugly. Fat.
It's worse than hives.
I walk the hallways,
Getting called these names,
Anybody stand up?
No. For shames.
Tears leak down my face,
And I push my glasses up,
As I quickly walk past,
Before I throw up.
Words hurt worse than actions,
But no one knows,
Not until they experience it,
And the tears roll down your nose.
I walk home and let it all out,
My pillow soaked with tears.
And then that was it,
Those were my biggest fears.
Did they enjoy themselves?
Even though it was 'for fun.'
They may think it's funny,
But I have to run.
My parents aren't much help,
They're gone everyday,
Work, work, work.
Thats all they ever say.
I crack under it all,
Finding the pills in the closet.
Opening the lid,
And them pouring like a faucet.
Onto my hand they fell,
And my face was red,
As I raised them to my lips.
Now I was dead.
Are you satisfied now?
You did this to me.
This is what you did,
You set me free.
