My voice?I tried to smile,laugh through the pain,but it's been a while,I think I'm insane.I can't hear my own voice.The one that says what I want.Now I have no choice.You never did, it taunts.It tells me what I should say.It tells me who I am.It tells me everyday.Am I the lion or the lamb?Am I as weak as I feel,or as strong as I pretend?Am I cold and hard as steel,or just waiting for it to end?Who am I?Do I really want to know?I end with a sigh.The voice is telling me to go.
Gay suicideHis mom is going up to the podium to speak. Everyone is so quiet that all I could hear was the piano softly playing "Amazing Grace." I think about him…I still can't believe it. My best friend. Dead. Just yesterday, he told me he was gay.I couldn't be gay, just like I couldn't have caused his death. When he told me, someone overheard and asked me how I could be his friend anymore and I just couldn't stand the embarrassment. So I said it. I said I couldn't be friends with a fag. I said that right to his face and I walked away.He left early; someone said he wasn't feeling well. I never thought—he was always so happy, so kind to everyone. And look what happened. Kids took advantage of him and he couldn't handle it. Kids are cruel, my class is cruel…and he was, well, weak.His mom is beginning to talk. "My son, Jaylen…he was always such a happy-go-lucky kid. He always found a way to make the worst things in the world disappear. He was always so nice to everyone. He stood up for his friend
Could it be...Could it beThat the clues I leaveAre really just holesJust emptying my soulCould it beThat no one can seeThe pictures I drawOf the things I sawCould it be thatI write things people forgetAnd the things I sayAre forgotten within a dayCould it be thatPeople regretReading the things I writeAnd I just don't know it yetCould it beYou can't understand meAnd all my dreamsAren't possible in this realityCould it beThat I don't know myselfThat I can't actually ever sayWhat I want to sayCould it beThat you are all deafAnd there is no reason leftTo go on with me and continue talkingCould it beThat I just don't knowAnd I'll never know if I keep goingAnd that the taps of my feet just stoppedCould it beThat I can't go onCan't move forward without my soulAnd the words I can't seem to get acrossCould it beThat I don't really want you to seeSo I put up a veil of pretty wordsSo that you'll leave me be and forget I ever left you something to read?
Test-TubeTest-tube:Pain is only an illusion, made up by the mindEyes glazed over, like nothingInside or outside.Frost freezing tendrils,The cool burning sensation,The nullness…And moreover, the dullness;Nothing can cure the sane.…Drip the blood slowly…As before,As it might be,The decision isn't quite clear.Poke the inside out,Outside in…Scream.What do you feel?Does it feel like pain?