Suicide Boy I

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Suicide Boy I

A love story of two boys,
One from the west,
One from the east,
Between two screens,
In the aftermath of yet another bittersweet tragedy,
Where a love triangle was broken,
And another heart was broken,
By the very own hands of my own ignorance,
Of my own promiscuous tendencies,
Of my own desperation,
And of the one thing I always said I hated,

Yet here I was,
Saying those flattering words,
Those words of pure beauty,
To a boy who I truly loved,
And whom I thought felt the same,

And he did,
For a short while,
Until that dreaded day came,
Where our lives,
Well,
Mine more than his,
Would be forever changed,
By the never ending feeling of lost love,
Where I would be the receiver of heartbreak,
And he would receive moral support from those so called "friends",
While all I got from those so called friends,
Was nothing more than slander,
Nothing more than hatred,
And nothing more than mentally damaging words,
All for crying over "suicide" boy,
Should I even call him that!

Why should I call a person with such cowardice,
Malignant intentions,
Such a name?

He never went through with his intentions,
Those twisted,
Disgusting intentions,
Which he had told me from the start,

"I shall be gone in a month's time,
You do know this, correct?"

I should have stopped there,
But my desperation for this boy grew too bold,
And so I simply replied,

"Yes. I just want to be with you,
To hear your voice,
And to reassure me that everything is alright,"

But those emotions,
To which I once believed to be true,
Were nothing but covering the desperation,
That had been growing so deep within my core.

And so the day came,
And my emotions were running wild,
As the news hit me from the friends group,

"He's gone."

And so I believed it.

But then a few days passed,
My emotions were still recovering,
But new news had come,
To the chat I was added,
And the words,
Those angering and emotionally confusing words,
Popped up:

"AARON RAF ISN'T DEAD.
HE'S RIGHT HERE."

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