Should I get up?
Should I write down the things that were assigned,
Instead of spilling fragmented words and phrases
Turning round inside my mind?
I know I won’t be able to sleep either way
As I hold my breath and press my lips together
To keep the ragged gasps at bay

I’m shaking in a near imperceptible pattern
Infinitesimally small,
Only using the word because it’s yet another measure of my worth,
How much I can learn
It’s only October first
My bonds and binds are already breaking from the heat generated by my lack of sleep  
That’s right,
After one month

Can’t keep it all together,
Grasping at trickling time, desperately
Clinging to even the smallest things I like
Is it bad that I’m starting to master the abysmal art
Of crying silently?