Vulnerable

At school

we're doing a poetry unit.

"Oh cool, we write poetry all the time!"

My friend says.

What we didn't realize, though,

was that the teacher turned on the tap

to our inner selves

and let it flow out

onto paper,

documents online,

until we were

empty

hollow

dry.

My poetry doesn't come out right

at school

and why would we feel

comfortable

in such a hostile environment?

Even the teachers hate our classmates.

Why

should we express our

deepest selves

in an unsafe environment?

Everything goes wrong at school

when I'm vulnerable.

Calico Frost

VT

13 years old

More by Calico Frost

  • Thread

    I used to spin golden thread

    thin and pure as warm sunlight

    lighter than feathers

    worth more than gold

     

    Now it's murky and brown

    chunky and stringy as grassy mud

    heavier than sorrow

  • Who am I?

    Who are you, you ask? Why, that's an incredibly good question. I don't know. I ask myself that every day, and I still don't know who I am. I don't know who I want to be, or what I want to do when I grow up.