• His eyes leak tears

    Mind races with thoughts of her
    She's always there, in the back of his mind
    He thinks of her every damn day and
    How she treated him.
    She made him do this, all her fault
    She'll never know why.

    She doesnt even know that he loved her.
    One look, she looked back.
    He wanted to know her
    Spoke only a sentence to her
    and got treated horridly.

    It's all connected.
    Most others hate him.
    A lot want him to just die.
    Laugh at his grave, they will.
    He knows it. As soon as the
    cool metal touches his vein
    breaks the protective layering,
    he'll bleed out.

    And now it's done.
    Blood pours fiercely from the wound.
    The red liquid flares out upon the cement
    He merely continues to cry,
    curled in a ball.

    The blood's stained his clothes.
    His skin's cold, eyes glazed over.
    face streaked from tears.

    He's dead.
    Body resting in a pool of blood.
    His blood.
    His crimson teardrop on the world.

    And she hears of this.
    This suicide.
    she doesn't make the connection.
    She does attend the funeral.

    The rain soaks everyone's black clothes as they watch the wooden coffin.
    It falls into the hole, containing the body of a sad teenager.
    A mother weeps, a father holds her.
    To her surprise, she feels water on her face.
    It's not rain, but tears, falling from her eyes.

    She cries, not hard, for his death.
    She knew him, spoke only once to him.
    But now he's gone. This boy she once met.
    The one who tried to be nice to her, she treated him like s**t.

    Amazed with herself,
    she lay down that night, wondering.
    She wondered why anyone would
    commit suicide. Take one's own life.

    She thought of how she had treated him the two weeks before his death.
    Horrible, she was.
    A b***h to him for naught.
    She considered herself to be part of his
    lonely suicide. Then she cried.

    Her tears soaked her pillow that night for an hour
    or two. She didn't know.
    She wondered what his thoughts were
    as he bled out his wrists.

    Did he think of her?
    How mean she was?
    How horridly she treated him?

    It's all connected.
    She gets it now.
    She never knew until now,
    but that boy...
    She loved him.
    Privately, she didn't want to admit it.

    Another night, it's raining once more.
    She kneels by his grave, crying.
    Knowing she helped him die.
    She brought a razor with her.

    She didn't know what else to do, causing a death.
    She should be killed for it by noone else but herself.

    She slit her wrists and bled.
    She lay upon his grave.
    She cried and with her last breath before
    her life ended.
    She wept the words, "I love you. I'm sorry."

    She was buried, at her letter's request.
    The letter she wrote and left that night.
    At the request of the letter, she was buried
    next to him. Right by the one she
    loved.

    They were buried, side by side
    The ones who committed suicide,
    over love and eachother
    they both leave the world.