Everyday,
Is like the first day of class to me.
A vow to never speak to strangers,
Even the word of " hello "
Puts my soul in danger to escape my own reality.
My best friend, anxiety tells me to become nervous from that one syllable,
Keep your chin down low
And never speak on anything after it.
" I hope the teacher never picks on me to speak. "
Wish I knew,
About insecurities on the first day...
I hide all my pain,
All my struggle,
Into a mute that could never enunciate, or a quiet boy lost in space, too scared speak a word.
And it's only the first day.
Stuff all my frustration, god given patience into
A voiceless, half broken man carved an empty space they call
A Desk.
Written at the top is a list of found things I claim to be desire, which is truly lost
Monday... Through... Friday...

Then again, therapy came in & science class became my favorite,
Everyday I'm working on figuring out a formula
Of how I can slip out of these chains
And be just like the cool kids, laughing, having a deep discussion, remembering how it was on the first day of school.
From this day forth, I scream hope.


©MH