This is a poem I wrote in school. I do not own Lock, Shock, or Barrel
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Laying on the ground of our tree house,
Silent,
So silent it was,
When home alone.
Maybe if they would've brought me,
My ears would not be ringing.
The blade still in the cabinet.
My wrists would not be bleeding.
But,
They don't care.
They never will.
Its like my very existence is nothing in their lives.
My pain.
They never saw it.
My tears.
They were blind to.
My cuts.
Were figments,
In their eyes.
And as I lay on the ground,
Bleeding half to death,
I can't help but to smile to myself,
Giving a hoarse chuckle,
As tears slipped down my paled face.
Let me forget my pain,
All of it was in vain,
They scoff and laugh at my weight,
Who's laughing now?
But my thoughts are interrupted,
Hearing the front door close,
My siblings calling out my name.
I don't respond,
Keeping my position,
As if I could not move.
I locked the door ever so tightly,
They'd never suspect a thing.
But then they sounded desperate,
Oh so desperate,
Crying out my name.
Do they really care?
Can I truly trust them?
Should I,
Would I,
Reply to the voices that taunted me so?
I did.
I cried out for them,
Sobbing steadily.
What have I done?
The door is broken down and they rush in,
My brother cursing at me,
And my sister rushing to get bandages.
"Why the hell would you do this?"
He cried,
Tears flowing down his cheeks,
"Why would you do this,
To your own siblings?"
Then.
Just then.
It hit me.
They didn't hate me,
They cared.
They didn't hate my existence,
They loved.
I am a true fool,
To think that my very own siblings,
My loving Lock and Shock,
Would hate their very own little Brother.
I sobbed with my brother,
Clinging on him tight,
Watching my sister bandage my wounds,
Tears shimmering in her eyes.
"Don't do this again, alright Barrel?"
She questioned with a frown.
My brother smiled through his tears,
Swinging his arm around my shoulders,
"Yeah you little numbskull!
We need ya right here,
Boogie's boys now a forever right?"
I nodded.
"Boogie's boys now and forever."
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End