i am just a glitch in the system,
a name
on a waiting list which is too long.
i am just a name, one you can't get rid of.
so you tell me i'll wait six months,
it has been eight.

you call yourself professionals,
yet you don't seem to realise that teenagers are –
impatient.
so my mother leaves endless voicemails,
and my doctor sends a string of letters your way,
all in a feeble attempt
to hurry along the mind numbing process.

i don't expect to beat the system,
and there are countless others like me –
but isn't that the thing that scares you?

you know, there is this fashion craze,
where we tie lengths of black cord around our necks,
and call them "chokers".
i wear mine every day, and i tie it a tad too tightly,
because i can't breathe
and i've ran out of excuses as to why.