Nickel. Dime. Nickel. Dime. | Teen Ink

Nickel. Dime. Nickel. Dime.

October 4, 2010
By barker21 SILVER, Provo, Utah
barker21 SILVER, Provo, Utah
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
“I want to say to young women here today, do not ever have any inferiority complex about your place in this world in which you live. You are a daughter of God, and I am satisfied that our Father in Heaven loves His daughters as much as He loves His sons. You hold up your heads and stand tall and walk in righteousness and faith and virtue and truth, and do not let anybody put you down or sell you short. You are daughters of God. Live worthy of your divine inheritance, my beloved young women. You are not inferior in any sense. Under the gospel plan you are daughters of God. Each of us has our place in the great divine plan, and we ought to magnify the calling and the field and the assignment and the qualities of good which we have within us”
-Gordon B. Hinckley"


Down you went, further and further.
Never quite into the red abyss, but so close—ever so close.
I tried and tried to bring you up—your green words begging
While the eyes of the deceased heroes on the faces of your soldiers pleaded.
But my stomach—oh, my stomach—and my seemingly naked body begged as well,
Their cries louder than yours. Amidst craving and stupidity I succumb to their temptations,
Their promises of the here and now—so much easier to see than the future.

I ignore the nagging regret of the consequence. And after my belly is filled, and
The weight on the scale grows heavier, I wish I hadn’t—but only for a moment.
The endless displays in the windows, the colors of advertisements—
Wonderful they seem.
The denim on my backside, the wool on my chest.
They keep me warm—I have plenty of it all.
The cotton pours from the closet over and over again—it all scarcely has room to breathe.

And yet.

It never seems to fail.
The curse of the here and now always knows how to burn my pocket.
Nickel. Dime. Nickel. Dime.
Death comes sooner than I had always imagined it would.
Nickel. Dime. Nickel. Dime.

The General looks at me with disappointment,
And then the Honest one.
Never the Inventor, he and I are good friends—I keep him safe.
But in comparison the General and the Honest one seem so insignificant,
And so I sacrifice their emerald faces.
Nickel. Dime. Nickel. Dime.
I tell myself it will stop.
I tell myself you will not die.

And yet—

Nickel. Dime. Nickel. Dime.
My stomach—oh, my stomach—and my seemingly naked body reflecting
in those endless displays behind the windows.
Down you went, further and further.
And down you go.
Nickel. Dime. Nickel. Dime.
Never quite into the red abyss, but so close—ever so close.


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