“What do you even have to worry about?”

“High school was so fun!
Why do you say you hate it?
Don’t be so dramatic.”

They tell me.
But then they go on, after they see my grades

“You’re not even trying!
Just study harder!
Oh, but you can’t take normal classes, no.
We want you to take all honors.
Honors classes are better for you.”

“You have a D in College Algebra??
That’s unacceptable.
You’re grounded.
Until you can get your score up, of course.”

Is what they tell me.
You wonder why I hate school?
It’s because it *****.
It teaches you that if you make mistakes you’re worthless.
And If you don’t get that letter up to an A you won’t get into a good college,
You won’t get a good job,
You won’t earn good money,
You won’t be able to live,
Not that (dare I say) a fourth of us even want to.

Did you know,
That the average kid in high school has the same level of anxiety
As the average insane asylum patient in the 1950’s?

It’s a ******* problem.

And don’t read an article about it,
Written by a Millennial,
Read by a Baby Boomer,
About the problems of a generation
That they don’t know.

I’m sick of it.

What do I have to worry about?

I have to worry about my future.
I have to worry about it every waking hour of my life.
I have to stress,
And agonize,
And internally SCREAM about it.

Because of how hard it is.

And I can’t “live in the present,”
Because I have no time
To do trivial things (without feeling like a failure).

I have no time,
To get the “eight hours of sleep your child needs” every night,
Because I’m doing homework,
Or crying,
Or procrastinating,
Because I know I can’t do it.
I just can’t make myself.

And I wish they’d be a little less disappointed in me,
Because It’ll never compare to how disappointed I am in myself.

That stone that stopped
The stepping stone
From being thrown
And lay instead
Trying not to sink
Not wanting to go under

Fear of exposure
Has stalled this stone
The lack of motion
Blocking the passage
That passes down
This river of marvels

Her skin crawled with fire ants underneath the surface
She couldn’t sleep long enough to dream anymore
Trying to live a life of perfection
She stopped loving everything she once lived for

She was born a foolish dreamer
But the fear of living her dreams was too much
Not knowing if she would ever reach the sea
She became a rock because it was easier to touch

What she forgot was she was the one to break the soil
It didn’t have to be explained to anyone
It didn’t have to matter at the moment
But one day they would realized her fears were their reflection

She wanted to live in a world of high fashion
Cultural expression alluring  rainbow canyon mystery
Until it’s over you can never know what you came to be
She asked someone a question, they said, "It’s your fantasy"