Trigger Warning: suicidal thoughts. This is a story I wrote about the effects of being bullied. I understand the hurt when you’re the target. I know I’m not alone. It’s been many many years but I still remember the feeling. 








My friends had me come over


They called me to their room


I got up and I followed them


Said I had to leave real soon


I sat up on the bed


Like so many times before


And out they pulled a pistol


From their grandfather’s top drawer


I sat in silence shaking


Thought they were showing off


But they put it right against my head


I waited for it to go off


They laughed after it clicked


They called me names, I’m such a coward


And I swore I’d never speak to them


They were relentless in their power


They’d find me in the hallways


They would always call me names


They would chalk it up to horseplay


Then they would do it all again


I wish that I could disappear


Get lost and not be found


Hide within my memories


And never make a sound


Am I so small and worthless?


Is it fun to see me cry?


I close my eyes and wish for death


It doesn’t hurt to try


Those who think they know me


Think that I’m some kind of joke


I don’t think that they know me


Or the thoughts that they provoke


Wouldn’t it be funny


To just sit around at home


Slit my wrists and maybe


I’ll just write them all a poem


I’m sure that I could still write


I mean it’s just two little cuts


The letters might be messy


And they’d all just say I’m nuts


Or go out with a bang


Just to have a little fun


I could end it in moment


If I could steal that fucking gun


I would get them all together


Surprise them with a call


In a second pull that trigger


Will they hear me as I fall?


I’d be dressed up for a party


As the blood dripped down my cheeks


And I’d leave each one a present


A gift for them to keep


I guess it might be funny


To be the last to laugh


To have them sit and wonder


Maybe wish to change the past