Deathly Afraid
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Deathly Afraid
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
I write those words on my paper over and over
as I stare at my best friend.
His cuts barely show underneath the hooded sweatshirt,
but 'barely' is enough for a glimpse.
I can't begin to understand why he does that when he's alone,
or what makes him afraid to tell me.
I can't comprehend what could be so bad,
so I keep my silence.
I'm always afraid, deathly afraid, that he won't show up for school.
Tomorrow might not ever come for him.
I'm always afraid, deathly afraid, that if I speak up
He won't talk to me, won't show up ever again.
It's hard to watch him spin 'round in this whirlwind,
but it's got to be harder for him.
It's hard to write these lines over and over
and pray that this nightmare will end.
I try to understand so much that one day I grab a blade
and press it to my wrist and drag it across.
I swear and drop it, grabbing a towel.
This is supposed to make it feel better?
He sees my cut on the bus the next and a sadistic smile crosses his face.
I hear him laugh for the first time in ages,
but it's a scary laugh that makes me want to cry.
He gets off from so much pain, how painful is it to die?
I grab his arm when we get to school, pull him aside.
'You won't leave me here, will you?' I ask.
He kisses my cheek. 'I won't leave you here to die.'
It's homeroom and he whispers to me to go to the bathroom and hide.
Without a second thought, I pick up my bag and run.
I hide in a stall just in time to hear the gunshots.
I count seven before I can finally cry.
The bathroom door opens and I open the stall, wondering who it is.
I stare at him and he stares back, the gun pointed at my face.
'What are you doing?' I scream out loud, terrified by the look on his face.
'I promised I wouldn't leave you here to die.' He smiles and blows me a kiss.
'Tell me what heaven looks like.' And that's all I remember he did.
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
Deathly Afraid
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
I write those words on my paper over and over
as I stare at my best friend.
His cuts barely show underneath the hooded sweatshirt,
but 'barely' is enough for a glimpse.
I can't begin to understand why he does that when he's alone,
or what makes him afraid to tell me.
I can't comprehend what could be so bad,
so I keep my silence.
I'm always afraid, deathly afraid, that he won't show up for school.
Tomorrow might not ever come for him.
I'm always afraid, deathly afraid, that if I speak up
He won't talk to me, won't show up ever again.
It's hard to watch him spin 'round in this whirlwind,
but it's got to be harder for him.
It's hard to write these lines over and over
and pray that this nightmare will end.
I try to understand so much that one day I grab a blade
and press it to my wrist and drag it across.
I swear and drop it, grabbing a towel.
This is supposed to make it feel better?
He sees my cut on the bus the next and a sadistic smile crosses his face.
I hear him laugh for the first time in ages,
but it's a scary laugh that makes me want to cry.
He gets off from so much pain, how painful is it to die?
I grab his arm when we get to school, pull him aside.
'You won't leave me here, will you?' I ask.
He kisses my cheek. 'I won't leave you here to die.'
It's homeroom and he whispers to me to go to the bathroom and hide.
Without a second thought, I pick up my bag and run.
I hide in a stall just in time to hear the gunshots.
I count seven before I can finally cry.
The bathroom door opens and I open the stall, wondering who it is.
I stare at him and he stares back, the gun pointed at my face.
'What are you doing?' I scream out loud, terrified by the look on his face.
'I promised I wouldn't leave you here to die.' He smiles and blows me a kiss.
'Tell me what heaven looks like.' And that's all I remember he did.
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.