Bathroom Sanctuary

***This is a true story. It may not be my best-written poem, but I hold it close to my heart because this was the time that I began to finally stand up for myself and believe that I wasn't a pathetic kid that needed to die...like I was so fond of hearing back then.***

In fourth grade, the time was long
The current of deadly hate was strong.
I knew that life before was fine
Before I came to this Christian School

I look on back toward my past
Think of all the judgment they passed...
...Her clothes don't match, your hands too dry
They just ignored my lonely cry.

Only seven, and thinking of death
Relying on the invisibility of God's breath
But nowhere could I find His love
...In each and every violent shove.

So cried into my pillow at night
I even told my mom of my fright
But no, she didn't even believe
She thought that my purpose was just to deceive.

Vacant I became in the world
Finally all of myself I hurled
Began to build my hate inside
To brace myself for what they tried

At the end of my fourth year
Trod the day all cold with fear
Avoiding all the looks they threw
What they were thinking...even I knew.

So the day before the summer met
I thought at night and got everything set
A knife to school would hardly be noticed...
...They wouldn't care...they shouldn't.

But, I tried once more to be accepted
But my friendship was rejected
So then I turned to the restroom
And gave into my lonesome doom

I cut my wrists with a rusty blade
On the wall, red graffiti I made.
"I hate this school" I wrote on the wall
As I kicked in the door of the bathroom stall

Sitting silently just crying there,
A teacher came, somehow she was aware.
Took me up into her arms
Tried to entice me with her unfelt charms

Called my mom and dad that day
See? Now they knew my pain...
Now they believed and still didn't care
Because next year, they still sent me there.

Over the summer, I met a friend...
...A spirit who promised her power to lend...
...Became a darkened child I was
...If anyone asked...I'd say, "just because."

Same with people all about...
But this year, Eight, I did not pout.
Instead when the teacher made Katie shake my hand
I broke her bones like a tower of sand.....

Then one day I was in the bathroom
Trying once more to escape the classroom...
...A girl named Kiera Hill followed me...
...Oh what a stupid girl was she.

She badgered me and called me names
Her voice I did not hear proclaim.
I was listening to my dark spirit
And I released myself to it.

Grabbed the sink upon the wall
Shook it until I heard a bolt fall
Threw it at the stunned girl's feet...
...Saw her face go as pale as a sheet.

I looked at her and then at the sink
I knew my anger had exploded it's brink
And then I took just one step more
To make her fear so hard to endure.

"I did not do this...did I, Kiera?"
I said to the pathetic wench.
"N-n-no. Of course you didn't."
And then she ran right out.

After that, the kids were silent.
So don't tell me this old tale...
Problems CAN be solved by being violent...
...You see? You're all for sale.