Poetry Of A Suicidal Teenager

"My PTSD is a Bitch"

I sit, at my desk, writing poetry.
A wave hits me.

Pebbles dig into my skin, into my legs.
Thrashing about against the hands holding me down.
No's and stop's fly out of my mouth.
It falls upon deaf ears.
One of the boy's are holding a knife.
My eyes widen at the blade, and I thrash harder.
Crying out for mercy.
He advances.

I reel back in my chair,
as the, I'm sorry's fall from my mouth, before I can stop them.
The second wave hits.

My legs feel like lead,
And my throat burns.
The sounds of shoes hitting pavement, sounds from behind me.
My bag, digs into my shoulders, with each step.
I'm holding a journal in my right hand.
Desperately trying to hold on to it, and run faster at the same time.
But the journal's slippery.
And I'm starting to lose my grip on it.
I look down at the journal, in horror.
Readjusting desperately, but I've just dug my own grave.
It slips between my finger tips.
It falls.
My secrets, my life, my everything, gone.
I turn back and see one of the boys chasing me, pick it up.
I slow without realizing it, and start to turn back.
He grins at me.

I cover my ears, and stare crazily at the floor.
No's slide from my mouth,
like it's trying to convince my brain nothing happened.
The third wave hits.

My eyes are set on the floor.
Textbooks and notebooks, clenched to my chest.
Just trying to get to my locker without drawing attention to myself.
Unfortunetly, I was not so lucky.
Someone grabs my backpack, and I get dragged backwards.
"Aw, look it's the Faggot!", he says.
I try to scramble away, but to no avial.
I plead for him to stop, but that just fuels him.
"Oh look! The fag can speak too!'
He throws me down onto the floor.
Kids snicker at me as they pass by.
With encouragement he doesn't stop there.
He makes fire seem safe.
The cold floor starts to not bother me.
But for some reason it's what I remember most.
I was lucky we were in school.
Cause it would have been alot worse.
After that, making fun of me was far more accepted.

I stumble back in time.
And I weep.

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