Cookie

I will tell you what I remember from high school, and I will tell you how you can follow in my sinful and lowly footsteps, that your blood might be as holy as mine. 

The silence of 11 pm 

combined with the clicking of my keyboard, 

rushed typing, like i 

have somewhere to be. 

fingers lightly tapping across 

the keys when 

I reach my limit from time to time.

whether it be at school or at home.

I reach the limit of what my brain can handle.

All of the noise of life becomes too much and I need to take a break.

I need to turn my ears off.

The morning bell rang

just like it always had.

Backpacks lined the wall,

bright pink, sky blue,

zippers half open

with pencils and erasers inside.

A teacher wrote quietly

on the chalkboard,

I think I might drown

From the weight on my shoulders

Expectations,

Hopes,

Dreams.

I want to meet them

I need to meet them

The black and white tapestry on my ceiling

paints a subtle reflection

of the personality of my bedroom,

holding the insufferable weight

of millions and millions of stars,

some bright, some dull,