Pressure

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Pressure has
soft features that match her delicate hands.
She has
a shinning smile stressed with bright red lipstick.
She has
a pink flowered dress that sways with her every step.
She has
a doll like face: the button nose, rosy cheeks, and curled lashes above
her cold dark eyes.

Pressure lurks at my locker,
in my car on the drive home from school
and even lounging on my bed,
yet she has never said a negative word.
She smiles
yet those cold eyes send chills down my spine
to the point where I’m forced to do what she has asked.

Pressure speaks with her eyes
causing me to push aside the self-discipline
for the goals I hoped to achieve.
She narrows her cold dark eyes
letting me know that I have no choice
but to follow her.

Pressure smiles
once she realizes that she’s made me
nervous.
She distracts me and
taunts me,
yet she is always there to
encourage me
at the very end.

When my final is do,
its Pressure that stays up with me
forcing my pen to paper so that
I get it in on time.
Pressure has cold dark eyes that
control everything around her.





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