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hey you
yes you
my thumbs are just angry, i’m really sorry they have to pound your face
l i k e t h i s .
i mean i’ll probably get osteoarthritis or whatever (not that
i looked up the long-term effects of smartphone overuse)
but who cares right? listen
it’s just that being here is
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being here makes me feel so
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this
cursed classroom is swelteringly hot
it reeks of sweat and sick and gross
it’s as if i’m
wearing someone else’s sweater and
germs that aren’t mine are s p r e a d i n g a c r o s s m y s k i n
yet that is not the reason why i seclude myself from the other students and sit in the back,
in the seat
farthest
from the rest
why? i don’t know, okay?
i don’t know why i’m not
engaging in conversation or
participating in discussions
it’s not like these things matter
my social rank is not predetermined; i still have class
i think
i mean it’s just school; i can still be cool and sophisticated
i think
oh shut up
who am i kidding
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I DON’T HAVE CLASS FOR CLASS IS LOUD AND I AM QUIET IN THIS CLASS
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sorry to be blunt but this is
not my home
one could say that this desert state is in a decent state
but it is everything you’d imagine it to be
ugly dry brown
nothingness
sometimes i close my eyes and think
of the beaches from which i came,
of my true home from which i moved away
cold waves against my legs
cool sand beneath my toes
the smell of salt up my nose
do you know
what happens when you uproot a tree from the ground it has known for so long?
neither do i.
roots cannot cling to the sand of the desert.
time check.
is it 3:30 yet?
this period ends the school day and this next period will end my sentence
and what exactly is my sentence for not interacting with my tablemate?
nonexistent. listen with me--
“oh my gosh her ex just asked me out on a date”
“comment an emoji for a tbh and rate”
materialistic egoistic narcissistic
nonsense
my old friends didn’t talk like that
no,
we shared a most genuine camaraderie
and every day:
the kind of laughter that erupts from deep within
the kind of smile that starts from the eyes and stretches from cheek to cheek
“my wage is my excuse for my rage”
“here are three projects (that i won’t grade)”
what?
my old teachers didn’t talk like that
no,
they opened doors to dreams i could chase after
and taught me to be patient in all my endeavors
“be bold! take risks!” they said
they taught me how to take a stance
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“be bold!” “take risks!” they said
they taught me how to take a stance
hey you
yes you
i think i’m just lonely, i should stop treating you
like this.
like you’re a person
when all you do is
stare at me blankly and
silently store the letters my thumbs press on your face
how could i forget the words that held me
big girls don’t cry
the way i hold you when i feel this way
big girls don’t cry
the words i took for granted in the midst of my bliss
big girls don’t cry
my friends still write me letters
and they text me often too.
hold on, stay there, i’ll show you--
they're saved in my messages
here, look.
see?
“you're a shining star, you know that right?”
“you'll do great things. we'll miss you”
time check.
3:27
late night thoughts in the afternoon eh?
it’s true anyway
that this city looks like a flatland of barren, parched earth
but this vast timeless place hides beauty well.
when i first moved here i thought
i would not survive
for after all, nothing survives in the desert
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WRONG
WHAT ADAPTS SURVIVES
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if they were here
they’d like to see me doing so
i am here
and i’d like to see me doing so.
i will love this pain the way it loves me
i will embrace it
arms open, face beaming
for i am no longer a child
that says “boo-hoo” at every boo boo.
pain becomes joy
for i rejoice in the trials i grow in
a tree uprooted is still a tree
so
i will stand proud
hold strong, have grace
and bear the sweetest fruits
i am a tree
i will branch out
reach for the sky
remember my roots.
change brings change brings change brings growth.
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