Every day, I wake up.
Everyday, I must prepare myself for what  lies ahead.

The first step into the chill morning air always bites,
But not a much as the stares of my classmates.
The pain of my sprained ankle screams,
But not as much as the voices in my head.
The blast of my music hurts my ears,
But not as much as the whispers do.
The exhaustion makes me want to cry,
But not nearly as much as the stress.

Everyday I enter,
Everyday I leave.

Friends joke about the pressure I have on me,
But they have no idea.
People question why I always have my notebook,
But they don’t try to understand.
Teachers are upset when I miss assignments,
But they don’t know what’s truly missing.
My instructors tell me to sing my heart out,
But it seems I no longer have a voice.

Everyday for eight hours I face my greatest fears.
Everyday for twenty-four, people don’t know I have them.