Words like Bullets

Words are like bullets to the brain. Often, they can damage not only that, but everything else around you. Who's to say who can clean up the mess with all of the stress you've been going through at the age of sixteen? How mean and demeaning the world can be, now to live in such a place where your words are too free, only to see that they can hurt through the internet when Mom and Dad are too busy to hear your woes. Too busy in the field of money and time consumed into impending doom when they are too late to ask themselves why didn't we stop and listen? Who's to blame, such a shame they point at the parents who say they were never around, even when the dinner table was full seated and feeding the teenager who wore nothing but black because it was the part of the sun that felt black and alone. Alone in the darkness they found on their own, because one day they wished that someone would see them before the pain can make them Hell in a home.

Too far too along, too soon too gone and how I wished I could've saved your life when you left me a letter in my locker that day. If only I opened my locker to say meet me out by the tree by Street Pauper and together you and I won't be alone that we die and how he wished he could save me. My Mom and Dad got me that day, but no one got you and you went away and it's hard for me to say so I wrote it anyway.

"Mark, where ever you are, I hope you found peace."