Luggage

March 14, 2004 § Leave a comment

What’s bad enough is I can’t stand there
Up front, and faking my own language,
So when I stumble up and say it
With words so uncomfortable in my mouth,
My face burns with embarrassment
And I sink back into my seat,
Tears welling up,
Threatening to flood like the pouring rain outdoors,
But I’m choking them back,
Head on my desk,
An F in the gradebook,
And I swear that I hate it all,
Pull my hood over my hair,
Trying to hide from life,
Blocking it out when it’s your turn,
And his turn, and her turn.
All I want to do is go home,
Crawl up the stairs,
Stand under the scorching stream of water,
Showering myself with salty tears,
Washing away the filth and stress and sorrow,
Stopping the pressure with pressure
From a cool, sharp sting,
Smooth and scarcely suspected of anything,
So nobody need wonder or worry why.

I’ll pack my bags and say goodbye.

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