The teacher said:
"Today we're going to write poetry."
And my brain did:
KkwfneqweHDYXNndmnhp398475iwr73cyx feha

what is wrong with me

This classroom was full at the beginning of the semester
And it didn't happen all at once
One by one students not understanding
One by one failing tests
Realizing they won't make it
And don't get me wrong
I might not too
But at least I'm still here trying

Tiles floors
As if an elaborate game of chess
Spiraled notebooks with lined paper
As if the bars on our collective prison cell
Mechanical pencils filled with lead
As if loaded weaponry to face war
Plastic chairs with metal screws
As if  the electric chair to melt our brains away
Teachers and their ungodly stare
As if guards keeping us complacent

They do it for the world, they say
They do it to prepare us for life, they say
They do it to help us grow and become smarter, they say
But that's not the whole truth, not in the slightest
They want to keep us in line
They want to keep us in place
They want to keep us silenced
They want to make us the perfect human
They want us to be perfect
We were supposed to be perfect
Perfect...

But we cant
We cant do what they want us to
We cant be their cookie cutter student
Never with straight As
Never with perfect manners
Never with perfect behavior
Never with their perfect emotions
Because we can't

But we can be our own person
With our own feelings
With our own emotions
With our own words
With our own personalized strengths and weaknesses
Because we can't be what they want
What humanity wants
But we can be human
We can be ourselves

And we will be
We will break and fall
And we will crumble to the sea of woes
But we shall rebuild our mighty kingdom
Out of tear drops and wooden blocks
And we will be human
We will be us

Maybe I should start doing homework,
I just wrote eight finished drafts.
I have an arm full of words and ink,
That I just made in class.
What else should I be doing?
Is the question mostly asked.
But I'll just copy her history notes,
I really need to get some sleep.

How can I, a source of such exuberant energy, look so startled?
Black, sunken eyes with a wide, gaping mouth that can **** you, but also bring things to life.
Hunched against the wall, I pale in comparison to the pretty polka-dot paint,
just a hard, blank shell covered in dirt, grime, and dust.
Come to me only when time is on the line, with forceful, shaking hands.
to fill my deep, dark void with a surge of passion,
only to abandon me for hours at a time, while I exert all my energy just to bring you joy.
I hum and buzz until you rip away my nutrients until I’m ****** and drained,
with my surprised expression returning to one of electrifying horror.
But still, I’m the lucky one to give you a glowing light, always full, to destroy the darkness.
I’m not one that gets lost in dusty shadows that might never be found,
who sits in silence, with that shocked face, waiting to find out his powerful purpose.

Heaviness of eyes
Unreadable sentences
Fighting drowsiness

Cold afternoon breeze
Drags wandering minds to sleep
So hard to resist

Yet the best part is...
The sound of a lullaby
Of prof's discussion

Oh how wonderful
To rest peacefully like I'm...
Sleeping on God's wings

Unfortunately...
When the prof caught us sleeping
Hell will seethe our soul

If you're looking for a reason not to **** yourself tonight, this can be it.

Sometimes, we feel as if nothing matters.
We all do.
So i made a list of a few of my own reasons,
13 Reasons Why
I'm still alive.
And hopefully you'll change your mind.
Those moments you feel happy, and nothing but lucky.
And you wish nothing will ever change.
I will try my best.

Reason 2. Paper Planes.
It sounds very weird; paper planes, but let me explain. Think about the times when you're walkin in a hallway on your way to a test, and you see a friend from a different class who already took it. You look at them and they immediately shout what you have to read, and you shout back the answer from the homework's last question. Or when you're in class, writing a disstrack about the teacher and annoying the **** out of them because the whole class just knew without telling we had to annoy the teacher. So you fold boats, make hats and trow clots of paper. When you have slack lay in class. When you trow paper planes and when everyone gets a F on the math test. When two of your friends want to sit next to you so you finally have a group of 12 people and don't do a **** during class. That feeling of luck, of happiness, of friendship and the feeling of stomach pain from laughing. Like you belong here. That feeling when you just have to smile. It's hard to explain but i hope you get it.

Multiple eyes glisten under the scalding lights
with hooded lids like a blood-thirsty spider stalking its prey

Yelling in the spotlight where the words fail to come out
locked behind gates of enamel shaking in the cold, wet dark

Full-fledged failure alerts the signal which forms
salt soaking stains against the burning, red hot flesh

Empty and alone, unaccepted and frozen like the
scrawny polar bear that wasn’t good enough to be the mate

Annihilation takes its course through the inside
resembling a death-eating disease stealthily flowing through veins

Reduced to nothing more than a fast-fading memory
gone as fast as a rollercoaster disappearing into the loud, tight tunnel

Silence that used to be comforting now is as deafening
as a tree falling in the middle of the forest, but nobody is around