When will it end?

A poem of how 1 person made middle school hell for me

B***h, s**t, emo, w***e. 3 years of pain you have brought onto me.

Die, die, die. You tell me. Always telling me to go drown in a sea.

“What kind of stupid music is that?” Its the music that keeps me alive.

“Why do you always wear f*****g black?” So I won’t be seen. You are so naive .

Slap! Bam! Pow! Right in the face. Why won’t the violence end.

Sting! Pinch! Ow! The sounds that are made for my wounds in tend.

    You say that I’m ugly, not normal, stupid, and so much more. You constantly harass me for no reason at all. I guess all the sudden you decided that I was stupid because I’m not like most girls. No, I don’t wear pink, I don’t LOVE country music, and I HATE glitter. I wear black, I LOVE rock music, and I rather wear converses or combat boots instead of highheels. Thats not a reason to hate me.

Reviews

[Hannah Morgan]

I am sorry you had such a bad time. When I bullied I used writing to vent my turmoil as well.
I feel for you in every line of this, which is great as you have drawn the reader in and they are with you.
Seriously consider turning this into a short page story. The potential is there.
Well done.