All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
The Clock Ticks
My lungs are weak.
My mind is exhausted.
My lips kiss a glass bottle for breakfast
and I take medication for dinner
that's supposed to alter my mood.
My bones are brittle.
My hands are cold.
I'm running my fingers over scars
and purple bruises that are a result
of a coping mechanism and you.
My nails are blue.
My stomach is empty.
I'm neglecting to feed my body
as it growls and screams for a taste
of something other than famine.
My childhood is a blur.
My teenage years were psychotic.
I'm a living, intoxicated travesty
that is being drowned in an ocean
of salty tears and self-destruction.
I was doomed from the start
and doomed I shall always be.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.