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"Stix&Stones" - Posted: Wed Feb 20, 2008 2:25 pm    Post subject: Vengeance



always steve :)



and thanks koch



when i wrote this poem i was going through alot. i had some f**ked up this happen to me, albeit, i let them happen but only because i had no spine.



in 5th grade i was picked on because i was the geeky kid around the hick-land country boys and i just didnt fit in, for we moved around alot and i was going into a reclusive stage.



i was homeschooled for 6th and 7th.



when i went back into 8th after another move, i was the poorest kid in a private school, for they were the only ones who would accept my grades from homeschooling. the worst time in my life. i was, once again, picked on and with no spine or a defense. the Spanish teacher, Mr Leachman, sat me in the middle of the classroom with the desks in a circle around me.. the bastard pretended to teach as pens, pencils, notebooks, erasers, spit-wads, words and laughs were thrown at me.. i think it happened more than once, for my only memory was seeing that sick sonuva***** looking back and laughing at me.



i was removed for "failing grades and disturbing classroom studies. i went to one of the area's worst public school. everyone was having sex, getting high, disturbing class. hell, a bunch of kids took WADS and HANDFULS of those beaker-stoppers from the 1st period science class and brought them into our second-period history class..



they were being thrown everywhere. the teacher could NOT stop them. they even pelted her!! i just sat there, next to the door, reading my history book. no one seemed to notice me. they eventually brought-in the principle and several other teachers to halt the madness.



they only thing i got from that school was Home-Ec. that class was fun.



9th grade i found hope. my brother was a senior so.. well, he got his friends to give me a blue-dyed swirly in the bathroom as a "formal" welcome to high-school. i didn't mind. i felt accepted for the attention. and it was funny. had my second crush.



i moved several times before and after this grade. i'm 23 and i've moved 30-some-odd times.



10th grade was my last official year of caring in-school. once again, my spanish class had no discipline. the teacher couldnt even teach. she had to have the principle and the resource officer sit-in for a 2-week period. they sent that teacher out crying several times. to me, a child whose only noticed when he's failing, it was amusing. sick, i know, but a truth nonetheless. i miss my geometry teacher, Mr Whisler. he made teaching fun.. it was my highest grade that year - C+.



my brother committed suicide, only 2 days after his 19th BD, that summer. we moved again. i lost friends just because of his suicide. i dont resent them anymore for it. they didnt understand. i went to only a few meetings. with my ability to observe and deduct, i fooled them everytime, saying that i was fine and i just needed some time.



it took me 8 years on my own and one attempt myself, at 18 and 3-weeks old, for me to see a way. i was saved by only the most miraculas-ways.. one day i may go into it but i'll say that if i hadn't told my good friend, that specific individual, i would not be typing today.



11th grade was interesting. i didnt focus on school at all. i failed 11th grade twice in that school. i learned so much. my favorite topics to write about in English were Pro-choice and on the subject of the Kent State shootings back in the 70's. i found truth in controversy. i found attention in my attacks. so what did i do? everything i still do today, but with the knowledge and hope that i'll be here tomorrow.



we moved again. this time 11th grade was fun. the late part of '02 was when i attemtped. the whole thing happened because of my failing grades; my mother wanted a piece of paper signed every day. i refused. my mother said i had "18-syndrome" and gave me a formal 2-week notice to move out if i refused. so she went to work. i called her bluff and set things up so i could move out. she came back from work - unable to focus due to stress. she called me into the room. she was so pissed said i had to get out tonite. so i started packing.



then she gave me the "last-chance" speech, as i'm sure she'd practiced so many time siwth my father, an ex-marine of 23 years; he left us many times, especially around the time of my brother's death, for he couldn't bear to read the euology - i saw him cry for the first time in my life.



then my friend called. she got to the phone first. she gave him the usual, hung up after nagging him.. then she kicked me out right then and there. so i took my backpack, with only a few items inside, and proceeded down the stairs and to the garden hose. i swallowed 25 10mg Flexiril. i weighed about 115lbs at the time so.. you dont need to really think about the dangers involved here. but i didnt. it was so reflexive. i started to walk down that dark country road, only got about 50 paces.. i stopped and started to cry. "what have i done" just kept blaring in my head so.. i did the only logical,



and the most selfish thing in my life - i went to my next door neighbors house, whose never home and hadn't been so in a week, and used my calling card to make my "last calls". after several tearful conversations and beggings, i talked to Brian. he saved my life. he knew Rhonda(mom) and Renee - she had wanted Brian's best friend Mikey. Rhonda knew Ashley from her daughter's Leukemia-treatments only a few months before - they just met and got along great. Ashley lived up near where i moved to - in 2002 i moved from Richmond to Warsaw, 75 miles away. Ashley had a crush on me and got along great with my mother.



sooo, Brian called Rhonda(he didnt know my home number) and she called Ashley. she was able to call my mom. Brian was the ONLY person i had told asto where exaclty i was. my mother came and got me while i was staring out the door. drove me up to the gas-station to meet the ambulance..



one word.. compound.. "liquid-charcoal". i refused the stomach pump through the nasal cavity. i swear i can taste that s*** even now. it was the Devil himself. they say 90% of people vomit after taking down some of that 10oz bottle, but i didnt. i was in the hospital for 23 hours and constipated for 3 days.. i REMEMBER taking that dump lol.



yes, even now.. i can look back and laugh. i was dumb, arrogant, scarred, a pain in the ass and a hopeless fool led on by fantasies of an easy-life-or-death.



--- i've come a long way these past 8 years ---