I am 

coming to where you are. 

 

My feet swing underneath the desk

too short to hit the floor

and they catch on the metal bar beneath the chair.

My legs pretend not to ache from sitting.

My fingers pretend not to be doodling instead of taking notes.

My brain pretends not to be in other places 

while my eyes are trained on the whiteboard

looking at the letters but not reading them.

 

My heart pretends to be brave 

while a list is mentally written in my head

and I draw swirly hearts on my textbook.

Who will get this book next?

Who has gotten this book before?

Sometimes I find places underlined 

and small notes taken at the corners of pages

giving away what you thought the answer was.

Did you sit in class like me?

Zoned out and worried about the places you might never go

but maybe you went. 

Maybe you're there right now beckoning me to come with you

telling me that I'm almost there 

that I can do this

I can conquer my world that is in a classroom

to find yours

somewhere in a rainforest 

with monkeys and yellow birds 

and the sound of rain drops dripping

and frogs chirping 

 

I want to be where you are.     

I want to leave my world behind to find yours and

You -- after you've taken this course 

after everything you've learned

I like to think it went to use

but how do I get to you?

 

How do I pass this course?

How do I get through midterms unscathed,

through finals,

another year...

How can I call out to you when you're so far away?

 

The teacher smiles at my desk.

"You like to draw?" she asks sweetly in Spanish.

"Yeah," I start, trying to think of something to say

but instead I look down at my desk

check that my homework is complete

 

and plan my journey to you.

 

I am coming to where you are.