October 5, 2011
By imlere BRONZE, Altoona, Pennsylvania
imlere BRONZE, Altoona, Pennsylvania
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Inhale to the top of your lungs,
hold it in.
Exhale, slowly.
Can you feel it?
That small buzzing feeling behind your skull
Just strong enough to relax every muscle
in your tired body.

The smell is pungent.
The house and your clothes
Smell like you lit a fire
Of skunk piss covered leaves.

The big hand on the clock ticks slower
and slower, and slower, until it stops moving.
Time is frozen, you are frozen without feeling,
without emotion.

Your eyes turn a bright red like
you caught the extra drop of shampoo in the shower
with your face.
There’s a rumbling.
A train, a train is running haywire
throughout your stomach. Hunger.

Gotta find something to feed the beast.
The train conductor looks for anything near.
Pickles, Cheetos, Reese’s cup, tomato soup; anything.
Food is your main point of attention at the moment.
Anything edible will be eaten.

The author's comments:
I was assigned to write a poem about food but was inspired by surrounding college life.

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