The Rain

Drip, drop,
Drip, drop.
The rain on my roof will not stop.
Each tiny drop of rain,
Makes me wince with horrid pain.
The memory of you,
Hurts my heart.
But if it keeps raining,
The healing will not start.
The name calling repeats in my mind,
So many words that aren't kind.
I curl up in a ball,
In a dark corner.
Consumed with pain,
And dying a thousand times over,
Again and again.
The dark memories will feast on my sorrow,
I'm not sure if there will be a tomorrow.
I'll live a half life,
A cursed life,
A life full of hate.
People might come to save me,
But it will be to late.
I walk out side in the dark,
Entering an unforgiving world.
I will not hark,
Back to happier times.
I walk across the wet barrin land,
With small but determined steps,
And a dagger in my hand.
I collapse by a near by stream,
I dunk my head in the water and start to scream.
Water fills my weary lungs of hate,
And I quickly decide what will be my fate.
If I should die here tonight,
Will someone find me?
Will my sorrowful body be alright?
If i left it in the rain,
An empty grey cocoon of pain.
The rain falls upon my head,
As I weep ready to die,
To be gone,
To be dead.
The dagger finds a comfortable place,
While I look at my reflection in the water,
Specifically my face.
What does it look like when the light leave your eyes?
I hold my breath and count to three,
I forgive all the people that made fun of me.
I close my eyes and grip the dagger tighter,
I push it into my stomach and a faint scream escapes my cold lips,
And my body lies there, not in a crypt.
It lays there by the stream of hate and pain,
And soaking wet in the rain.