Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Constrictions

The air grips me in an unbreakable hug.
The ground forms shackles around my ankles.
Even my own body betrays me.
Spit suffocates me.
My nails dig bloody crescents into my palms.
Teeth mangle everything they can reach.
My prison is perfect and immutable.
I can’t escape.
I can’t leave.
I can’t breathe.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback