Only Way Out

Two of my very best blog friends recently co-founded an online poetry magazine with a third person I hope to get to know in the future. Their goal is to publish bi-annual poetry journals with original poetry, meaning, if you submit your poetry there you could end up being published. WOOT! They will have weekly prompts to spark your creativity. They want your dark words. Your honesty. Your emotion. They want the words you’re afraid to utter in public. They want words that matter.

This week’s prompt, their first, involves social change. What things get us going? To be honest, I tend to avoid the news because I spend enough time being sad as it is, but once upon a time I read the news daily. A couple of years ago, before my separation, divorce, and my blog had any real readership, I wrote a poem inspired by a story I had read about a teen who committed suicide as a result of bullying.

One thing that can absolutely incense me is when people are intolerant of differences. What’s it matter to you if I’m black, white, latino, skinny, fat, Christian, Muslim, Agnostic, straight, or gay? Does who I am impact your day or give you the right to harass me about it? FUCK NO! Bullying needs to go.

Anyhow, before I fly off on a tangent, here is the poem I wrote, originally published on May 31, 2012, that I’m reposting in response to this week’s prompt.



Had enough
End of the rope
Can’t take any more
All out of hope

The insults
The violence
A desire
For silence

Bruises revealed
A glance in the mirror
Consistently called
Faggot, homo, and queer

A rope on the ceiling
A homemade noose
A plan to end
This constant abuse

Step onto the chair
Head inserted
Ready to jump
Heart is deserted

A leap from the chair
The noose tightened
Unable to breath
Extremely frightened

Heartbeat silenced
Oxygen exhausted
Body temperature drops
Extremities frosted

A life extinguished
Intolerance prevailed
The perpetrators
Should be jailed

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The Reverie

23 thoughts on “Only Way Out

  1. All this time you were writing poetry and we had no idea!

    That, of course, is a very very sad story. For that I think it’s not easy to write such a poem…

    I’m certainly going to check out the poetry magazine!


  2. One day suicide by bully won’t happen…hopefully…or is it homicide? Whichever, hopefully it will stop. Hopefully suicide or homicide will stop for whatever reason.

    Glad you posted this again.


  3. Absolutely!
    I wasn’t bullied incessantly. I had friends. However, I was a short, chunky Filipina goth girl in a mostly white, rather preppy school. To this day I still look in the mirror and see the “fat little brown toad” that some of the girls mocked.
    There’s nothing wrong with being fat, short, or brown. I even knew it at the time. But their words still stung.
    Thank you for your words. They are powerful and courageous.


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