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Suicide.

Same old names,and same old faces.
Same routines,never changing.
Same person,yet she's changing.

They call her fat,they call her emo.
They call her faggot,and push her around.
She doesn't show them,how she feels.

She walks home,alone in the cold.
Hair dripping from the rain.
Music in loud,emotions running through.

She gets home,to more bullying.
From her family,the ones supposed to love her.
In the place she is supposed to be safe.

They call her different,inhuman they say.
She's never around,always locked up in her room.
She shrugged it off.

In her room,her happy place.
Staring at the many faces of the many bands,they gave her happiness.
Yet,this place haunted her.

All those memories,she knew them well.
Tears fell as she encased her hands around a gun.
The killer object.

Fat.

Emo.

Worthless.

Nothing.

Gay.

Faggot.

Die.

She put the gun to her head,squinting her eyes shut.
Taking in a deep breath,before pulling the trigger.
Her last whispered words,for the whole world around her.

Words hurt.

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Okay,so this was my first shot at a deep poem,about real events and such.
I got inspired by Ash's poems,because they're really good and it's true.
And,I'm trying to put across the message,that words actually hurt.
You tell people suicide is stupid? What's stupid is that the things you say pushed them to think that it was their only option,you make them feel so low that they hate every aspect of their lives,from that moment on.So,those of you that have made anybody feel low,and made them think suicide is their only option,just know that words hurt,that they may not show pain,but they still feel it.I admit,I have bullied people in the past,but I won't anymore.I promise.
Rate and Review guys.Determined to get this to green!

xo Sadie