Go, fade away, standing in the light of the living
clutch the pencil and
trace it over the lines on the paper,
while others scribble real words
feel the numb, tingling sensation
when father talks loudly of his dreams, mistaking them for yours
feel broken and amused
as mother rants about your flaws and non-existent insecurities
sit calmly and silent
as the small town's bearings fly past the window in a blur,
tuck your earbuds in and watch the trees
run from the weary sun rising in the sky,
feel the familiar impatient, lost, lonely sense of despair
trudging behind motionless figures stalking in the hallways,
open the textbook and watch the imposing words
writhe in the light of your brain's uselessness
part your mouth to speak,
only to discover there are no words
to make reality a dream.