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
Interior Design
Start with the simple steps.
Begin with nothing but hope and ambition.
Ideal, pristine,
absolutely clean.
This is who I am, the image I am given
I play with it, examine it
stretch it till it's full,
compress it till it hurts.
Fill it up, you've got space.
Likes, dislikes.
Him, her.
Them.
Make it shine, make it reflect,
fill it with the life so eager to be lived.
This is who I am, the image I desire,
And I crave.
Distracted and ignorant of those who draw closer,
their image clutched in a deathly grip.
And I never seem to notice them
fill what is mine with what is theirs.
The feelings seeping through,
fusing and contorting the image that reflects.
When the pain steps in,
the excruciating feeling of the heart being choked,
I tear at flesh and bone to find
that pristine, white present
not so long ago.
But in the end,
all that is reflected, all that is stored
is the remains of the image I've created.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.