you sit
try and write
cram
the words
into your tiny little brain
out
out of your tiny little brain
and onto the paper
the screen

what

ever

they don't fit
useless
you tell yourself
you convince yourself

for weeks you've been hoping
praying
yes praying
to whatever deity will accept the shattered fragments of soul you have left

if only
it would be okay
if you could figure out
whether 1+1
is really
two

or is it three, or 4, or fifteen-hundred-eighty-six
at this stage
who knows

i don't know (do care)

i don't want to, though,
care.
nobody else does

apparently

you never really know
but you can tell

you can

that glimmer of joy in their eye
when you're counting the seconds 'till you can go home
they don't care

that echo of love in their words
when your heart is full of fear
they Don't Care

that glimpse of satisfaction everyone else seems to get when something
any
thing
goes well
or even just
ok

it's unfair
they couldn't care less
if it were true
or
just
a
lie

what you'd give to steal a taste of that feeling
carelessness
just for a second
or two
or three or 4

to be carefree

that's how you know
that
they. do. not. care.

i don't know (do care)

how to get it
feel it
think it
want it
taste it
even, maybe, just for a fraction of a second, believe it

i do know (don't care)