Sticks and stones may break my bones, but at least they'll heal
Instead, words come at me like knives, and they'll bore into my mind.
The sensation will always sting me,
And will take my sanity.

I could smile and laugh and be cheery, but all will be forced
For, in my mind, will be the words that were spat about me.
The feeling would come charging,
And, soon, I won't be speaking.

My body aches from bruises, cuts, and falls from people who shan't be named
But none hurt as much as the spoken words that wrench my heart everyday.
Especially from that one,
And the stuff she'd done.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but at least they'll heal
Instead, words come at me like knives, and they'll bore into my mind.
But hanging will I be soon,
For she secured my doom.