Monday, October 27, 2014

BULLY, by Rebecca Crutchfield

You're ugly.
You're stupid.
You'll never amount to anything.
No one will ever like you.
If you think he'll stay, you're mistaken.

You have no friends.
People hate you.
You are a freak.
You have no place here.
You are nothing more than a coward who
is too afraid to step outside half the time.

Your face is like something from a horror movie.
No one will ever truly fall in love with you.
Guys want girls that are beautiful and face it,
you are considered everything but that.

Hide behind your hair dye because you want to
feign like you don't care.
But inside the cruel eyes of others burn holes into
your soul.

You will never amount to anything.
The only thing you will ever be good for
is cleaning up dog shit.
You will never be good enough.
Why bother even dreaming?

How can you consider the possibility of love
when everything you do, the way you look, walk,
talk, move, think, can only ever be seen as

Not only is the outside hideous;
the inside is no better.
Why do you think you've never been on a date?
You have nothing going for you because even your
personality sucks.

Your eyebrows are too thick.
Your nostrils are shaped funny.
Your face is too big and fat.
Your shoulders too broad.

Your stomach's too weird.
Your eyes are nothing special.
Your hands and feet too large
to belong to a woman.

Your teeth are crooked.
Your nose too big and wide.
Your build is something that
can never be desired.

You don't need to be here.
You have no point, no place.
Nothing to live for.

Just kill yourself already.

Voices set on replay
like a record in my head,
playing every single time I wish to sleep
or glance at my reflection.

Because sometimes in life you find,
the biggest bully of them all,
aren't the trolls and sharped tongued teens
you find online and in school buildings.

Sometimes the cruelest tormentor,
the one wishing you ill will,
is the person staring out at you
from a sheet of glass, mirror.

You are your hardest critic.
This has been said before but,
sometimes I can't help to think
that maybe all these things are said
for a certain reason.

Sticks and stones may break bones
but bones can be set and healed.
Yet words slice through your brain and soul
etch permanent cracks on the heart.

No matter how much glue you use,
the cracks always remain just below
the surface and each time they feel better;
each time the pain weakens,

the words start up again.
Impaling you with truths that cut
deeper than any knife could do and
causing much more damage.

Who can save you from yourself?
Who can stop the evil thoughts,
if you haven't the ability to
make them go away yourself?

I am my own enemy.
The destroyer of my own soul.

Hi, my name's Rebecca.

And I am a bully.

~Bully, by Rebecca Crutchfield
"I wrote this because I realized that even though they are bullies that confront you face to face every day, a lot of the times you are your own bully. You will criticize yourself and beat yourself up more than someone people will do. This isn't something a lot of people realize that they do or even realize that this is considered a form of bullying."

Sunday, October 26, 2014

SUPPRESSION, by Jade Stokes

~Suppression, by Jade Stokes
"The title of this work is Suppression and it was created as a spin off of my journey and experience with bullying.. I've often put these themes into my artistic expression and this work in particular is one of my favourites."

Friday, October 24, 2014

BULLIED, by Reyna

~Bullied, by Reyna
"I composed this as a cover for a chapter of one of my fanfics which is about bullying. It's about the main character being bullied and how he overcomes this by having the support of his friends that become like family."

Thursday, October 23, 2014


~Silent Bombardment, by Kazichan
"I know first hand how much bullying hurts, and because of my experience I subconsciously self taught myself not to trust most people - mainly females because it was only them that bullied me - I also hid; escaping in the world of books, tv shows and drawing. I guess the worst bully was my sister, she treated me - AND STILL DOES - like a subject to her queen, after studying psychology I found out she was a sociopath: a person who cannot experience empathy towards others (shes also passive aggressive). At least she moved out of home.
Throughout highschool there was no-one who truly understood how i felt until year 11 when I became friends with 2 amazing people who help me through somewhat.
This piece represents the bombardment of verbal abuse I have been felt over the years (this is only a fraction of it). The words in red represent the hurt they caused and the bigger and brighter the words, the more they hurt. The white words on the bottom is that tiny voice in my head asking why they want to cause pain to me, and the small size is to emphasis how small and alone I felt. The reason this is not represented in a person is simply because I cannot draw humans."

Wednesday, October 22, 2014


The boy lays on the ground while the second stands over him
The first boy cries while the second laughs
The second boy is hurt
But is not crying
For his tears have dried up
The second boy is on the ground
The man standing over him
Belt in hand
Oh the irony

The first boy sits down
His friends crowd around
Concussion is found
Hit by a locker
And now is at the doctor

The first boy goes home
To a poor family
To a small house
To an unhappy life
To depression
To anger
To suicide

The first boy screams
But no one deems
It important
No matter how absorbent
The physical bandage
Can be banded

The second boy stays still
Clothes off
Bloody and beaten
Assessing his wounds
Just to go back
And beat the first boy some more
Oh the irony

The anger the first boy feels
All of those deals
Only to be let down
And told he was a clown

The first boy is sad
The crying never stops
While the second boy laughs
But hides the scars
Under his hoodie
While the first boy doesn’t
Oh the irony

The second boy runs
From what feels like a thousand guns
But in reality
In actuality
There is only one
And it isn’t a gun

The first boy’s life is over
He gave up
But his story will never be forgotten
Because in the sea of many
He wasn’t the only one

Bullying is wrong
But you must be strong
For behind every bully
There is trully
A troubled past

~Oh The Irony- An Anti-Bullying Poem, by Damian Snow