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It's that time of year again

where some "news" are formed

and some "olds" are forgotten.

The faces of friends

become familiar again,

while last year's math formulas

do not.

We come together

In a chaotic world 

of eight billion people, 

each hidden away 

in their own 

separate lives, 

be remembered for 

being the person 

who brings others joy, 

I am 15, a rising sophomore struggling mentally. Can’t motivate myself to do much, still dreading the first day of school. I often find the phrase “I can’t” pouring out of my mouth as I feel out of control, laying in my mom’s arms.

My body

drowning in a

hoodie and sweatpants

knowing it won't

and can't

muster the energy

to get up.

Not that I

need to.

It's the middle

of the night.

But it seems

sing even if you sing badly; dance even if you dance horribly; write even if you write terribly; love even if you are bad at it.

When you’re trapped

in a place you can’t escape,  

routines that never end,

drowning under piles of paper, 

with the deafening sounds 

of endless haunting expectations