There's something being written on the board.
It's probably something important,
yet all I see is dark scribbles on the white dry-erase surface.

My brain is a light switch,
but one with a faulty wire.
I can't turn it on and off,
it does it on its own.

Time slows down.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
The second hand twitches--
is it really moving? I can't even tell.

The lights overhead are so bright,
they almost hurt my head.
My mind is dark, my heart is cold.
Smile. Laugh. Repeat.

The ringing of the bell echoes in my ears.
I hear it all day, a dull sound at the back of my skull.
It's maddening and I just want to crack my skull.

I hate it here.
No--
I hate them.
No--
I hate myself.
Yes.

My eyes feel like dams that are always about to burst,
but manage to hold together one more day.
I can feel the stinging of the tears,
or is that just the dust in the air?

My pencil,
I can hear it tapping on my desk.
I'm not even aware I'm tapping it.
Tap, tap, tap--
Sorry.

I can actually hear the teacher.
I can understand what they're saying.
Wait, it's gone again.
I'm here, I'm watching,
but my eyes are glazed over and my mind is gone.

There it is again,
that small voice at the back of my skull.
It's hard to make out.
It sounds like, "End it."
Just a little longer,
I tell it;
I think I'm addicted to the sadness.