The Colors of Bullying | Teen Ink

The Colors of Bullying

April 23, 2012
By Rachel_Zer0 BRONZE, Woodstock, New York
Rachel_Zer0 BRONZE, Woodstock, New York
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Blue and black bruises dance up my arm.
They hit me for not being one of them.
“I fell. You know I’m a klutz.”
Dark bags under my eyes and pale skin.
I was reading what they wrote about me online all night.
“I had homework to finish.”
Pale blue water droplets on my pillow.
I cried over their insults.
“I was watching a sad movie.”
Red streaks on my stomach.
They did this in the locker room.
“No one can see.”
Bruises fade to green.
Don’t worry. They’ll give me more
“Oh, these? I cant remember where I got them.”
Deep scratches on my arms, now faded pink.
How can I explain my hatred for myself?
“Silly cat.”
Dented brown glasses.
They stole them and decided to have some fun.
“Can you believe I actually sat on them?”
Green grass stains on my jeans.
They pushed me to the ground for being in their way.
“The soccer game got a little rough.”
Never saying a word.
They taught me not to express myself.
“That’s ok. You didn’t listen to me anyways.”
Distancing myself from everyone.
They say I have no friends. I believe them.
“You never helped me.”
Trying to fight through the days.
They say I cant.
“They’re right. I cant do this.”
The temptation of leaving.
They say no one will miss me.
“I could. No one will miss me.”
The blue sky welcomes me from the rooftop.
They’re cheering me on. Chanting my name.
“No one noticed. You promised you would, but you didn’t.”
One, two, three, four.
They laugh. It’s a game to them.
“Why are they so hard to ignore?”
Five, six, seven, eight.
They smile and encourage me. It’s their favorite show.
“I can’t stop. It‘s too late.”
Blue sky mixes with white clouds and green grass, the red haze of fear is ever present.
They can’t touch me in the sky.
“Why am I not flying?”
They do not regret anything. They never do.
“I regret this. I always will.”
My eyes close for the last time.
They see it as a sign of weakness.
“I never was stronger than them.”
Someone reaches out for me in the white glare.
They know how much they hurt me. They don’t care.
“The pain wont go away. Make it stop.”
I see myself laying on the ground. I am gray; no color allowed.
They smile triumphantly.
“Help me. Why didn’t anyone help me?”

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This article has 6 comments.

on Jan. 29 2018 at 8:16 pm
beaka2000 BRONZE, Mifflinburg, Pennsylvania
1 article 0 photos 3 comments

mplo said...
on Jan. 7 2016 at 8:59 am
Wow! This is an intense poem that cuts right to the quick regarding bullying. It was clearly written by someone with first-hand, long-term experiencing with bullying! Heart-rending and accurate, at the same time.

on May. 14 2014 at 12:26 pm
KandiceMichelle PLATINUM, Stansonburg, North Carolina
24 articles 0 photos 29 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Yet God has made everything BEAUTIFUL for its own time. He has planted ETERNITY in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God's work from beginning to end." -Ecclesiastes 3:11

This is an amazing piece :) you did an awesome job with the details :) I can see you put a lot into this poem, and only someone with experience could write something so powerful :)  This needs to be read by everyone :) Awesome job again :)

emma3.14 said...
on Nov. 7 2013 at 9:33 pm
What a powerful story to tell through the beautiful art of poetry.  You are an inspiration and a role model for all of those out there who have been bullied.  Bullies can be mean and they can do a lot of harm but they can't silence a voice like the one you have in this poem.

analilia said...
on Oct. 8 2013 at 2:36 pm
analilia, Easley, South Carolina
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment
this is really good.  i love how  detailed you are  and  it  catches me becasue this has happened to  me  numorious  times.

on May. 30 2013 at 4:16 am
TrishDestiny PLATINUM, Jerantut , Pahang, Other
45 articles 2 photos 91 comments

Favorite Quote:
“When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it is over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.”

This is so original and interesting piece, the way the writer narrate this article is somewhat touching!