Words.
That’s all they are.
You have been told all of your life,
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words will never hurt me.
Walking through the halls,
Seeing the stares from people who think that I don’t notice,
Hearing the whispers poking fun at me,
And then comes the bravest observer,
The one who approaches and humiliates for my whole world to see.
Words do hurt,
They sting with the force of a thousand bees.

I hear my laughter ring clear
Through the ow’s and ah’s and giggles,
Putting myself off as a confidant person,
Just sucking up the pain,
The sting of the insult.
I see the surprised look on my assailants’ face,
Him thinking that his words didn’t have the effect he desired,
While on the inside I have broken down into tears.

Over the years I have gained skill
In faking the appearance that I am unfazed
When faced with hurting words.
I have perfected the art of just laughing it off,
At least it looks that way.
When in reality,
It feels like hornets
Attacking my heart.

They think their words don’t have an effect,
On me.
But today as I walk to school
I vow to prove them wrong,
And to end my pain.

I feel the cold metal bite against the skin of my hand
As I take the object out of my pocket
That will end my pain.

As I stand beside the tall oak tree in front of the school
I hear the buzz of the bees nest
High above in the branches.
A single bee flies down and lands on my arm
I feel the sharp pain of the stinger
As it plunges into my skin
Releasing the poison,
The poison that I have felt my whole life
Eating away at my composure and sanity.

The bell rings and my peers, my tormentors
Flood out of the front doors
I place the only antidote for the pain to my head,
Thinking of how I will now be an example
To my torturers, and others who have thought of it
Showing them what they have done
And what they could be doing.

I pull the trigger and smile
As I feel the poison as well as the pain
Flow out of my body with sweet release.
The bees sting no more.