The pressures, they are tightening their grips.
Everywhere I look,
Something to do,
Somewhere to be.
All that I hear
Is what I’ve done wrong.
I go on doing . . .
And hearing . . .
And they go on tightening.
I feel like I’m being eaten alive
By them.
I try to get them off,
But they are deep in me.
I rip at my hair,
Pull at my clothes
And grab at my skin . . .
They are eating at me,
Ripping at me.
I try to stop them,
But they are there.
I fight,
But they don’t weaken.
I grow tired,
But they don’t.
I feel them tearing up my soul
So slow,
So constant . . .
They are killing me
And
There is no escape.
Age 14