A Trouble Shared, A Trouble DoubledMature

They scream, shrieking that I'm a freak,

They all say that the outlook is bleak,

Because I'm a living suicide,

Their insults and my soul collide,

Resilience shatters like bad-quality glass,

Though the cruel words subside, the pain won't pass,

It burns past each scarred and bruising layer of skin,

Burn me on a cross for my unconfessed sin,

Sometimes, in their minds, I'm dead,

My suicide note remains unread,

Heart and soul disintegrate,

"How was your day?" "I swear, it was great."




The End

20 comments about this work Feed