the classroom i sit in,
with baggy eyes and a heavy heart,
is cornering me and strangling me, leaving claw marks on my neck.
the walls close in and
my lungs can’t find another way
to breathe.
they weren’t taught any other methods but heaving.
what am i doing in this classroom? feeling misplaced
learning about nothing i need
about nothing i will use in the future. in the back of the room,
hidden behind smiles and jokes
of more lively teenagers.
they belong here.
i don’t.
i don’t belong.