Today's the first time I've allowed your image to play across my field of vision in a while.
I let myself remember the smile that made me come alive and I'm rotting.
I was always taught not to trust the things that were unknown but the only words I ever believed were those you spoke to me in a language I never knew existed.
I studied you like I did for all my tests in high school. I memorized what I thought was important. I looked at the main points on the outside;
I never connected the dots.
I didn't analyze the deeper meaning of those bolded words in your textbook.
I wonder why I was so shocked when I failed the test.
I've taken plenty of these tests before. Just about all of them are the same.
You were just one of those teachers that knew how to make me feel like I would pass.
That deep, red ink you used to grade my paper matched the fire in your eyes when you handed it back to me, as well as the blood spilled now across my skin, yet again.
That half-smile written across your face
I'm looking at it from in the grave
So it looks more like a frown, to me.