This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at URI chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.
She
Counts
Her shots
With sharpie
On her arm, tick tick
The alcohol swirls inside her.
It can kill you, you know that, if you keep taking them.
Â
She
Waits,
Ignores.
Breathes in smoke.
The substances coursing
Through her veins. The two, a yin-yang
Teasing each other, now giving balance to her world.
Â
Feel
Your
Burning
Cheeks flushing
Under the dim lights.
Are you still counting them tonight?
What are you trying to escape from? Him? Or yourself? Â
Â
Up
The
Stairs she
Goes. He leads.
Swirling smoke fills the
Room. He presses her down into
The bed. Tears surface in her eyes. He doesn’t notice.
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Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash
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Photo by Thought Catalog on Unsplash