Victim to a Hopeless Fight

Fictional piece.

Eternal sleep,
How wonderful it sounds.
Never bothered,
With petty mind games,
With awful teenage girls.
Never outcasted,
Feeling horrible about myself.

I wonder if I'm still alive?
Have I been commended to hell?
Trapped in a place where no one cares?
Where everyone is happy,
When you're in pain?

The blade biting in my wrist,
Says, yes you can still feel pain.
The blood running down my wrist,
Says, yes you're still alive,
You're not a ghost,
You're not in hell.
Unless the devil's playing tricks,
With my head.

But if he is,
His tricks are well crafted.
I'd prefer the flames,
Forever burning me,
Over hating myself.
The scars on my wrists,
Remind me how much they've hurt me,
But it's safer not to fight back,
Because if I do,
I know the words will just get worst.

It's hard though,
To listen to what they have to say,
What new insult they've come up with.
They're never really clever,
Those pretty little heads,
Hurt too much when they think.
It's the masses,
The number of people against me,
That's what makes it hurt.

Author's Note

Just so you guys know this is fiction. This isn't about me or anyone I know. But it does happen. So many people cut themselves and are bullied. Also the title may not make much sense.. Sorry. Also if anyone's wondering I was reading a book by Ellen Hopkins which inspired this.

Reviews

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Really well done. You managed to step into another's perspective and completely portray what goes through their head. I would say this is pretty dead on. I commend you for writing on something way outside most people's comfort zones. And, I think you did a great job. I like the take on hell, and the idea that its not one person's words, but many people's massing against one person.

A great perspective piece. Well done.