Trashed and Scattered.

This weight of
Saddness
Has rushed through me.
I begin to weep in tears that
I can't help
And I begin to wish
I was never born.
I begin to wish
And dream
Of being somewhere else
That isn't so happy.
And to switch the lives of a person
Who doesn't have it so bad.
Who doesn't have the sorrow
That weeps through me day
And day.
I start to yell
I start to scream
And then I start to cry.
I can't cry in front of him
Because he isn't a bully.
He's worse than that.
Ignore and he continues to
Tease
And hate
On me.
It hurts to know that he knows
That he knows how
Weak I am
For crying in front of him
While I try to be tough.
While I try to yell back
And pick on him
And then I'm trying to make
Peace
In the most ironic way.
By yelling
And hitting
And screaming.
I can't help it.
I leave it.
I leave it on the floor
And I don't bother to pick
The pieces of my heart and
Courage up.
I'm done
And I go into my closet
I go into my little space
Where I feel like I am safe.
In my mind
As I lay in my bed
I cry.
And I remind myself
That I can't do what he can do to me.
I can't cause pain to someone
Like he can.
I'm tired of standing up for myself
And trying to be happy
That I fall
And crash in my own wishes.

Well, the good news is, the more you purge this, the better it gets...and in a positive way. You and I have talked Poe to no small extent on several occasions, and in a way, some small way...this does remind me of Poe. Not so much in the style or presentation, but in the ability to "inspire" yourself with a solitary focus...yet avoid the pitfall of many young writers, repetition. Not only of words, but of patterns. Like the grief and torment you're writing about, it hits from all angles, never the same way twice.

YRMW