A few months I don’t particularly enjoy


High School, that living, breathing monster

With those piercing hooded eyes

And that unwelcoming smile

It begs and beckons and pleads

And as we unwillingly proceed we begin to see

That monster is me


A cough and a sniffle

Somebody yells “foshizzle”

An argument

A compliment

An accusation or two

Welcome to our lunch room


A bump

A snag

A scratch

A rare “I’m sorry”

An endangered “My bad”

An extinct “Are you alright?”

A common “Get to class” or “Where’s your red pass?”

A shuffle

A step

A stomp

A goodbye

A “Do you have a date?”

A bell that means you’re already late


A few panicked looks

A couple sweaty brows

A flurry of notes and “Oh my God”s

An instruction to quiet down

An adrenaline rush

A number of papers passed back

I hope i finish this test without a heart attack


Another look in the mirror

A couple loose strands of hair

A frayed old bag

A deep sigh

Another morning goodbye



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