"I'm seventeen already sniffing blow; Tell my friends it's asthma every time I start to itch my throat."

When I cough it shakes me and I cannot stop.

Sometimes phlegm comes up.
Yellow, and brown, and gross.

My teeth are yellow, even though I brush them twice a day. I even floss.

My fingers nails crack and my left eye droops when I smile.

My teeth are too small for my mouth and my acne is inconvenient in all the wrong ways.
My eyes that were once dazzling and electric-blue are just a shade of gray.
My hair is starting to tint gray, mostly in the back; that's why I cut it.

My lungs ain't what they used to be.
My knees are knobby, misshapen and sore.
My vision is less then perfect, especially in my left eye and I drink too much soda and not enough water.
My **** is always yellow, my throat always soar, and my head always aching.
My tonsils are swollen so much that they block off half of my throat.

My shoulder hurts when I lift it above my head and my back tells me I always slept in a weird position.
My dreams are always nightmares and my thoughts are always self harming.

My cigarettes are always smoked too quick.
I'm too stubborn to smoke ****.
"No, I don't need it man, that **** is stupid."
But, it really is stupid.

My neck pops when I look up and locks when I look down.
My feet become soar after walking from one class to the left.

My heart hurts whenever I think about The Girl I Once Had.

I cry when I watch One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest.
(I'm only human.)

My life has been going on for only a little while, but my strings are frayed.
I mean, Jesus Christ, my back's sore.
What kind of old man garbage is that.

I mean, shoot, I even complain like an old man.