It was pushing on.
I felt I had to stop it.
The vines grew, tall and strong;
I promptly ripped them out of the ground.
Furious with desperation, I dug my fingers through their roots.
I tore them from the soil and endured the torture of watching them wither away.
Roses sprouted in the spring.
I would not stand for such mockery;
I plucked them from their earthly home,
And placed their heads gently in my mouth.
I ripped them off with my teeth and consumed the petals.
Rain soon arrived.
It spotted the landscape.
The puddles were like a disease –
A disease that seemed to mutate daily.
Every morning the puddles were smaller.
They shrank back into the ground, and I could not take it.
I finally resolved to do something, so I dug a hole where every puddle was and buried them all.
I ripped up the grass.
I made sure no trees grew.
The clocks were an ever imposing presence.
I had no choice but to wrench the hands off of them.
This failed to stop their incessant ticking which drove me insane.
I slammed the clocks into the ground and pried out their gears one by one.
All this, however, did nothing to stop it.
The sun was always there, reminding me.
I swore to myself that I would one day destroy it.
I swore to myself that I would destroy the moon, too.
These vengeful promises meant nothing; there was no stopping it.
Every time I blinked, more wrinkles formed in my arms and legs.
I could feel it wearing me down each day, making me weaker and weaker.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
This piece won the September 2015 Teen Ink Poetry Contest.