As I sit down in the dark corner I can feel the walls begin to slide,

I feel trapped, trapped here inside

As if this is my last goodbye.

The smell of expo markers being crushed by the walls,

Causes a sickening squelch within my stomach.

The numbers on the walls

Zooms past in a nervous patter

And I move to get out.

The gypsum walls feel as if they are moving close,

The Algebraic concepts they give seem to choke me.

I need to get out from here,

The overwhelming of math puts my thoughts on overdrive.

I need to get out of here.

A poster of complimentary angles catches my eye

“The bottom line is 180 degrees,”

The punchline to a long forgotten poster joke.

Addition,

Subtraction,

Multiplication,

Division,

Greater than,

Less than,

Are all words that spin around in my mind,

As I look around one more time.

The math concepts are now hidden from me as the lights flick off

And the heavy wooden door slams shut.