a poem.

I will die

here in this city full
of flat brown fields
and winters that never
end- where I lost
myself; where I became
the person consumed
with apple martinis
random hook-ups
late nights of smoking
joints and laughing
about nothing at all,
all the while trying
to break free from the
chains of peer pressure
the addiction to men
who screw and then
leave me feeling like an
anorexic staring into the
mirror: starving but
skinny enough
beautiful enough – almost,
one more day and then
I will stop and live,
or not.

by Kari Carda

[I wrote this for my poetry class. :)]