"standardized" poems
my mother has blue eyes
but I'm still a ******
my mother has blonde hair
but I'm still a ******
my daddy is black as night
but I'm still a *******
my daddy has ***** curls
but I'm still a *******
I call this hash tag the struggle
because to be biracial is nothing
more
because to be biracial is nothing
less
than a struggle
to find who I am
to find who I should be
to find who I'm supposed to be
i really wish they were the same person
i really wish you understood hash tag the struggle
but you don't
and you won't
so stop telling me about my
good hair
and stop telling about my high
yellow skin
and stop telling me my parents have the fever
and stop staring at me when I
walk in
and stop trying to guess which parent is black
and stop trying to guess which parent is spanish
No
I'm not Spanish.
No
I don't speak Spanish.
No
You CANNOT touch my hair
Yes, my nose is in the air
Of course I think I'm the ****
Because I live my life trying to be better than women who are dark skinned ...with something I was born with
...out of my control
Of course I try to flaunt my plush lips around the white girls who get botox
who then become the have nots because I've stolen all the brothas hearts from the city and the boondocks
See you don't even know me
but you think these are my goals
see I call this hash tag the struggle because nobody understands the trouble in being whole
when you're given two halves
that don't match to patch up one soul
and you're born into a ****** up mess still expected to know
and they tell you to ignore them all
be yourself
race should not define you
but I can't even fill out two ******* boxes on a standardized test
because you are only allowed to check ONE to describe you
hash tag
TheStruggle
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
After months of sleeping next to you, today I woke up, rolled over to see your face, and was ______.
a) in love
b) complete
c) nervous
d) alone
e) all of the above
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 3:29 AM UTC
There is a place in Colombia
where kids have proven
they can educate themselves better than you can.
In the midst of a world we have labelled
"developing"
children of farmers who don't know English
(but are better citizens anyway)
are kicking our superior *****
There's talk of bringing the method here
where, no doubt, it will be standardized
(all the better to fit into a single test)
and forced down our children's throats
while we coo
God Bless America!
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 5:01 PM UTC
Fighting on the front lines
With red pens
For creativity,
For independent thought,
For common sense
Not Common Core
This is a battle in a bureaucratic war we’re losing
Keep pushing and shoving against an impenetrable wall
But we’re only foot soldiers, not actually giving orders
Kids look down on us and they ask,
“Will this be on the test?”
And say,
“Get out of my face.”
Here’s what I wonder: Why is “mistake” a forbidden word?
Taught by parent(s) to resist.
These are Kids who fail to create
But recite, recall, and retaliate
School is no longer a safe haven
Testing, testing, 1-2-3 hundred murdered students, teachers
Safety off and then off
And
Still off
Hanging by a thread and losing the grip a little more every day
Following the curriculum map to X marks the standardized test.
We dig and
Dig and
Dig
For the buried treasure trove of teaching magic. The legitimacy and respect our careers deserve. The money, the time, the love, the support.
But it’s buried under so much testing and red tape, and so
We fail.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 7:42 AM UTC
The sleet is drawing boxes 'round
our mud-and-snow sashed towns.
We'll check 'em off
with crunching footsteps,
slash our gallows grins through static
weather. Nervous laughter fights off winter
while somnambulist nights
hold the anthill days at bay.
And each repeated conversation
coats a thrumming undercurrent
echoed by the groaning rivers
in their arthritic fatigue.
where the ice piles up
like car wrecks.
And, out of those disastrous angles,
jumps up and trips back down.
Blinking eyelids, right then left.
Sunrises. Sunsets.
Dusks and dawns in places familiar
wading through liminal space.
Circles darkened. Footprints filled in.
The heat just circles lazily.
Our flushed and clammy brows
will **** askance
and sweat while footsteps
melt our swaying way through boiling
sidewalks. Nervous laughter dulls the impact
of seared, rapid fire nights.
"Ha." "Ha." Shrug off another.
And all repeated reminiscence
does is hamstring overthinking
of the closing jaws of traps
in these rusting western towns.
where winds breathe dust
by mouthfuls
So, into our familiar mishaps,
***** up and falls back down
melting into neighborhoods
dress down, upbraid us.
'Til our feet do not walk circles
'round these wilting Western towns.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 6:09 PM UTC
A Bird, which will be of the age
is not good enough, | is or will be;
In order to be able to be controlled;
on behalf of the deaths of so many,
unique in the city,
In particular, the Church is the Church
by virtue of the form of the the fire in the green stars;
standardized, Mary was born on the bed
of Allah's Goat, Lord, this is my time,
The blood; head,
American adulterers here are golden
United Nations members Software
In the history of the sport doctor,
Another item that is contrary to God's,
Its features contained in the nutrition and diet,
literary experts thinking Igor
the name of the topic that is the true spirit
of Greek and Latin; The name of the old | one
together with its own nature; Brazil in the news,
and for the first time; Exercises early
in the morning; There is a clean slate
blind blind; Sunscreen is the rallying cry
on Wall Street because heat and women
do not produce Alchemy; Education
| changes to the garden and changes his focus
to focus on the Russian psychiatrist | |
whose Heroes are adults;
with Jews, all are members of holes
At the entrance to the project the green tea tree
in front of the French school in Virginia
is another; ||full of the country I went with him
to the next town,
where Black Hill was available,
free as smoke, Regards from the sand
at the beach; After watching the food
and Hills and Hills and Hills of *******
firings and labor unrest, the characters,
you'll cry, face south, a wise driver || | |
And it was the attacks of the servants,
Marcus picked the best fights;
Johnny Angel pushing her on her stomach
in Marcus's Museum of America
in England, boughs and leaves falling
About Einstein's wife's head; The Entire |
Beginner's football club piles on top
of the screaming woman
understandably horrifying for those
not involved, lest what is defined
in the term evil, is the same ******
of the trees; The happy city working
on the beach; Growing up I began
to stroll the paradisiacal part of the city.
The girl's glory bore witness
to ligroàkọsílẹ's second wife,
when the bomb hit the covers of adultery;
Ever trusting, the fornicators
taking the oil to the women,
Since in seeking you, I will see to it:
that they speak |||||
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
The schedule is set. The schedule cannot be touched. No. No. I do not bluff. Do not mess with my plans do not think you can change them, I have a way of completing them as I had previously arranged them. You will be kind, you will be neat. You will most certainly not drag your feet. Be on time. Leave swiftly when we are done. Remember, this isn't about having fun. You will take a test, choose an answer, A through D. You grades depend on your answers, no, you cannot plea. Because everything here is standard. That's why we call it a standardized test you see. We want to know how average you are. How basic can we make you. How can we take all of your skills, intelligence, capability and capacity and smush it together? A test of course, A through D, the letter you choose will determine what you mean to me. It will define you in the long run and can hurt or help a great deal. So don't buy into all of the nonsense that you are creative. No, we want none of that here, unless it is in the art room, and we're talking about paper and what you can smear. Because here it's all about what you "know" although I don't care if you understand or remember it. I'm just doing what the government thinks is best, they give me all of my money, so I always adhere to it. No, I don't care about you, your relationships, uniqueness, or capacity to change this world. I just care about what letter you bubble in on that test, so go ahead, pick C, so our statistics can go up and the school board will get an "atta girl."
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
Growing up is hard to do that's why when I was 12 years old I said I would never do it because it is full of heartache and hatred, trouble and lies, what is the point of leading such an unfulfilled life? Now at only 17, I am being catapulted into a world full of life long choices, where one wrong move- one stupid mistake- can ruin my existence. Yet I have so much resistance because I cling to this notion that i will never grow old. Responsibility is for grownups I would shout then...and even now... but the difference is, today I am going to take 5 standardized tests in 2 weeks and visiting a big brick building that will feed my mind and prepare me for "life"... as if I am not already alive. What is "the real world"? Is it not what I have been going through since birth? Why does reality only hit when you're 18 and starving for attention? Silly me, I was under the impression that I am a human being, going through experiences and learning lessons that will fill my soul. but that’s not true after all; I will only be useful when I have a successful career and child at my hip. **** these rules of society. I am a human, a person, an adult. But not because I chose to be one, I was forced into this role that has deteriorated my mind and thrown me into raging fits of anxiety and depression. Yes, high school has been the greatest years of my life... if by "great" you mean emotionally damaging.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
INTP
Introvert
Intuitive
Thinker
Perceiver
Highly intellectual but
score lower than expected on
standardized tests
Fascinated with the world
Plan maker and
abandoner
Frighteningly unemotional and seemingly moves on from devastating events rapidly
Acts self absorbed but
truly cares for people under the cold exterior
Often feels detached from the world
Unable to articulate great idea and thoughts exactly
Loves to argue and debate
for learning sake but
some don’t see it as
friendly banter
Called the mad scientist without
convention
An absent-minded wonderfully built learner,
That INTP
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:13 PM UTC
(Plaster cast at Pompeii)
[THE TOUR GUIDE]
*“Ladies and gentlemen, here we are at Pompeii's
fabled Thermal Baths where heated water was
passed through duct work in the walls. One can
imagine Nero himself stopping here on one of
his visits.”*
[BONITO]
Bonito stepped out of the bathhouse and looked up.
Vesuvius rumbled - shaking ash and fire skyward.
Breaking into a run he sought the south road,
glancing back anxiously at the
vast dark cloud billowing down the mountain.
*"The principal city roads were recessed
and wagons were required to have standardized
wheelbases and clearances to fit in channels cut
into the stone. Follow me please to the residential
area.”*
He gained the road and his feet
pounded the stones of the “via stabiana.”
The cloud multiplied and fell on the city.
Ever deepening layers of ash clogged Benito’s path.
Heart pounding in his chest he lengthened his strides.
*“Leaving the opulent villas with their spacious
atria, we now enter the market area where we
shall see a display of remarkable interest. During
excavations, empty spaces were discovered in
the ash deposits.”*
The rising ash captured his left leg.
Bonito inhaled the fiery air and ******
forward into a burst of falling soot
but was unable to finish his stride.
*“Archaeologists poured plaster into the voids
revealing the outlined bodies of Pompeiins
trapped in their final moments. Take, for example,
this man caught in mid-step with no time
to escape the life choking dust.”*
June, 2006
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 1:32 PM UTC
Gifted
Gifted means nothing to people who do not know
I don’t even know the proper definition
Strange that I do not know a part of myself?
I think not.
C’est la vie – such is life
But why must only a few be burdened with this white elephant?
Yes, a white elephant
For although termed a gift, it comes with its own price
On my school’s website, on the gifted page, there is a file
This file, entitled, giftedness; a different kind of normal
Aptly named I think
The upsides? Exactly me.
The downsides? All perfectly describe me as well
My ‘gifted’ friends are just the same
Why is this a gift if it sets us back in our standardized culture?
Sure, I ace the tests, but I can’t start projects until last minute
All because of my perfectionist side
I am a ‘deep thinker’
But I hate deadlines because they limit the
Time I spend on a good, fascinating subject
I’m considered to have the ability to motivate people
But it always comes out bossy
I'm supposed to have high standards and expectations(which I do)
But these fail me when I cannot reach them myself
Causing insecurity
These traits and numerous others all belong to my kind, the 'gifted' kids
I've noticed we're all socially inept, awkward, clumsy
To some degree or another
And I suppose this analytically mindedness comes along with my plethora of troubles
I'm supposed to have many interests, and this is true
But it also prevents me from knowing exactly what I want
I'm supposed to be very focused, detail oriented
But I cannot stand the slightest disturbance
These gifts are deemed part of the 'gifted' personality
Why can't I be normal for a change?
Being gifted really singles you out
Such a small group of us in my school
Almost all are best friends
As no one can understand us better than others just like ourselves
But why can't everyone be gifted?
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 7:16 PM UTC
When we were little
They used to call them
Spotted
Orange
Lizards.
I think they were trying not to scare us with
The words
Standards
Of
Learning.
Standardized testing.
Those things that you need Number Two pencils for.
Those things that they prepare you for
Every year
For months.
Those things that if a cell phone goes off
The entire class comes back
During the summer
And retakes it.
Those things that they give you hours and hours
To take,
Out of our normal schedule,
Even though they only take
Forty-five minutes
Those things that don't even count
Towards our grades
Because
"They're really assessing the teachers--
But it's important to do your best."
SOLs.
Those things that people stress over.
Even though your answers
Are only
Tiny gray dots
On a
Scantron sheet.
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
we may be the generation
of the next
shakespeares,
curies,
vernes,
einsteins,
akeleys,
sagans.
how can we be boiled down
to a 'standard'?
and when we refuse to stomach
this diluted broth you have served us,
it is force-fed:
teargas for forks,
riot shields for spoons,
tasers for knives;
until our tongues are so awfully burnt
that all we may say is this:
'we are the standard generation.
we are the future for the past.
we have standard answers to extraordinary problems.'
leaders say change will come in
2014,
2015,
2020,
2030,
2050,
please ensure that the numbers on your booklets
match those on your answer sheets.
we will bubble 'a' for global warming,
'b' for the debt crisis,
'c' for war and famine,
but this is a test we didn't study for.
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 5:55 PM UTC
It's finally friday
I go to a school where the students are higher than the grades
where people go to parties to get drunk, so they don't have to steal from their parents
and the parents know this but they do not care
I go to a school where the teachers tell us to get enough sleep, but to study
oh and don't forgot to be involved
the girls hide out in the bathrooms, purging their sorrows into the toilets
then coming out to fix their make-up and smile to the rest of the world
I go to a school where the bags under the eyes are bigger than a standardized test
and where the cuts on wrists ( which we all act like we don't see) are deeper than the
ambitions
The rich kids are cracking under stress and getting higher than their G.P.A
and I'm hiding out in the hallway, after having a panic attack
I go to a school where we all hate ourselves
but we all smile the same
and we all talk the same
we repeat the same **** sentences until the final bell is rung
I go to a school where more kids die than graduate
I go to a school where I know all the best spots for crying
I go to a school where I don't really like my friends
But, now it's the weekend.
Don't forget the test on Monday
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 10:19 PM UTC
You require at least three similes.
A metaphor or two.
This section needs more sibilance,
and another allegory on alliteration too.
Creative writing
now a standardized test
where a poet seems
to do slightly poorer than the rest.
You receive a checklist, told
bye and buy the book.
Drain away the colours upon your pencil
or face the examiners sickle and hook.
Creative writing
now a slog a convoluted use and reuse
of that which
"improves"
your descriptions and inscriptions.
You need a conclusion.
something befitting a happy end.
Try anything smart
and a bad grade i'll be "sure to send."
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC
Planting excitement upon us,
My daughter asks how to thin the beets.
"When the plants are three inches tall,
Pick the weaker ones and pull them up,"
I say. "You'll take out two thirds of the young plants
So the rest can grow."
I see a troubled look upon her face,
And realize what I find in myself....
The teacher's quandary:
Picking whom to keep,
Whom to cull...
We put our love into them all.
Watching for first and tender shoots,
Celebrating as the fledgling leaves appear,
Not thinking of a time ahead,
Dreaded time to thin....
Teachers are reluctant to cull,
Building emotional connection,
Providing loving direction,
Promising success to all....
Then come the standardized tests,
The team selections,
The popularity contests,
The invitations to slumber parties,
The division of elites,
The rising of divas,
The rostering of first teams...
The separation of pariahs begins,
The promise we made to early learners ends,
Superiors, exultant, drown out the tears
Of those left standing by the fence,
Excluded from the chances to advance.
Standing in the seedling beds,
Spring breezes rustling tender leaves,
I turn to Kate....
"It's never easy....
But if we don't thin the beets,
The beets will not develop
Beneath the leaves."
These damnable analogies arise
Infrequently these days,
And I am standing in the dirt,
Black soil upon on my hands,
Wondering about survival of the weak,
The treatment of humans and young plants,
Pondering humane ways to honor every student
In which I am investing...
Wishing I could see the end of high stakes testing....
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 12:29 PM UTC
English language remained father's maid servant
Who played with her beauty for thirty five years
He passed it on to us to take , to the bear brunt
We loved to be on the line to embrace the veers
We have a claim of native with spark of language
To cross the barriers it has provided us the bridge
We salute to our father who has given us courage
And helped us to portray and celebrate his image
Let be specific and clear in the standardized stance
Let us not give to any Tom,Dick and Harry a chance
Let us with the help of a powerful and strong glance'
Celebrate the prime occasion with intoxicated dance
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 6:39 AM UTC
Born free,
what have you been branded to buy as truth?
You couldn't help but consume the prime conditioning,
angelic thing, they manipulated your blank, slated value with price
Impressionable infant, deficient heuristics anchored in tradition
were all you were given, they represented trend's definition of right
Blind to blinders set by frames,
you will never long for sky you've never seen
While you've been growing, who's been leading?
Who's been sowing, who's been reaping?
Now you are as you're told.
Now you are as you're sold.
You didn't see how your movements were determined: causal reinforcement and cogged belief systems
Hunters exploit the needs of the herd and they traded you meaning for all you were worth
Customerary compliance made you meek and the markets less violent
Your standardized schema had felt so secure, while their fashion pruned passion's significant core
Blind to blinders set by frames,
you cannot be free if you don't see your cage
While you've been growing, who's been sneaking?
Who's been sowing, who has been reaping?
Now you are as you're told.
Now you are as you're sold.
They'll come as salesman, promised happiness in their wares
They'll come as preachers, with taxing cross for you to bear
They'll come for your time, your money
They'll come for your life, and your sunny days
will be grey without that which you never knew you needed
No, you never ever needed
What have you been branded to buy as truth?
You won't choose to see your reflection on the discount shelf,
reduced to pelf, you let them establish the goods so you could be saved
from spending efficient economy, it's ironic that you're their battery
and though their floor is your slaved ceiling, you give your Self away
You won't see your light inside
if you're guided by other selfish minds!
How did you begin?
What have you been?
Who are you now?
Jul 5, 2011
Jul 5, 2011 at 7:27 PM UTC
The Steps to Success:
1. Stand up for what you believe in; unless it goes against what society does, in which case you can kindly shut the hell up.
2. Don't let anyone stifle your creativity. But don't be too creative, you won't get anywhere in life because art doesn't matter after high school.
3. Express yourself. Unless of course your self expression makes others uncomfortable, then you must hide who you are in favor of what's normal.
4. Focus on the good in the world, even though the media is constantly full of mass shootings and suicide bombings.
5. Get a good night’s sleep every night. But only after you've done 6 hours of homework, eaten a full meal (not too much, we wouldn't want you to get fat), attended an extracurricular, and spent time with your family.
6. Mental health is important. But it isn't as important as homework, essays, and standardized tests. School always comes first.
7. Don't disrespect your elders. Even if they have beaten you down mentally and physically your entire life, they're older than you and therefore smarter. Respect them.
8. Be confident in who you are. But don't be too fat, not too thin either. Don't wear a lot of pink, but watch how much black you put on too. It's okay to feel good without makeup, but a bit of eyeliner wouldn't hurt. No, not like that, here's a makeup wipe; you wearing way too much.
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 11:31 AM UTC
The Struggle of the
American
It's Heaven”
Mr. Buetti,
“Or this is Hell”
Who is 51 and lives
“It's a choose your own adventure”
Standardized,
Mass Produced, Vessels.
Missing some deeper substance
Southern farmers, Harlem stoop sitters,
Musicians, builders, athletes,
Liberians, and sailors
A
Dormant
Theater Set
Waiting
For Actors' or super models'
To bring it back to life
Wealth displaces grief.
From Here
I Saw
What Happened and Cried.
Just another day in the life of
Secret Americana.
Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 5:39 PM UTC
the length, in months, he stays,
the act of age he portrays
you've hurt so many lovers,
and yet you take one other.
the same age i felt with you
the age before i was legally able
to be stable, or atleast the thought of my own--
place, time, and space.
i've watched, without you knowing
and i've known that she had it coming...
you get deathly sick,
move out,
and act like your gone,
to see if she can really have one, two,
...wait...
only one chance,
because at 17 , you lost the first factor
and now she is 25 and knows better
moved on and written you a letter
stating what i told you long ago
that maybe at 17 you should have stayed alone.
funny a simple prime number
can have such significance
where as my story with seventeen
was a magazine
an age where i first heard about graduated licensing
when i decided that maybe i wasnt ready to date
because at 28, i realize now that 17 for you is a mistake
where mine is memories i made.
this number was the bus i rode
to and from school at even the same age,
i felt i turned a page
as the poetry i wrote and read; the pictures i took
that now line books
lined, blank, and randomly
decorate pages
handwriting was really interesting then--
but beautiful now
to see that one thing has come true
...i found love...
with a man, That i met Before you
and found me once you left
seeing regression
to the age i felt...
the highway in my home town that also leads--
to my home beach...
and all the way to a place of fancy in Savannah
and a commercialized vacation destination,
in the opposite direction
but knowing my memory is still alive, thriving...
keeps the idea of this prime number
alive atleast,
and for the weak, subtract ten
try to grow up doing the math
that i was back then, before all the computers and cheat sheets.
when standardized testing placed me in the highest bracket
i would have graduated atleast a year faster.
also, my memories deal more happiness
knowing that they last with this...
a little rhyme and time
and now that i am in the prime,
im past that length of time in months
with the man i love
and have **** near doubled the capacity--
have bought a little man a simple legacy
that his mommy and daddy
have a say in the matter
but when he's 17, he'll under stand the latter.
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 9:59 PM UTC
I Have This New Problem.
This New Self Crippling.
Self Doubt.
Slithering It's Way Inside Me.
You See I Have This New Problem.
This New
Tick,
Tick,
Tick
This New Something - Standing Sidewise In The Back Of My Mind, That Makes Me Insane.
I
N
S
A
N
E
Instability Like Crumbling Cinderblocks.
Convinced That My Muse Will Leave Me.
Get Fed Up With My Messy Bedroom And 5 Hour A Night Sleep Schedule. Decide I Don't Appreciate Her Enough. She'd Write A Love Song About Leaving Me. The Red Lipstick She'd Wear And Yellow Cab That Would Take Her Away.
Nauseous.
Like Sick To My Stomach.
Like Dizzyingly Drowsy, Like Taking Four Hour Naps Between Work, School, Homework,
And This Thing Called Obligation,
This Thing Called Obligation,
This Thing Called Obligation.
Obligated To Myself.
Redefined By A Number On A Score Sheet, Let it Tell Me I Wasn't Worth The Effort Anymore.
Let It Tell Me To Give Up.
Let It Wake Me Up At 3 am To Write This.
Sanity, Like The Thing I'm Sure I Must Have Misplaced.
Like Anxiety.
Like This Inability To Stop Eating Myself Alive, Separating Fingertip From Skin, Biting Down To The Quick, So Everything I Touch, Hurts Me.
Like Telling Myself No.
Like Staying Awake Seventeen Hours, And Seventeen Assignments Later, Like Seventeen Years Of This.
Like Enough Already.
** I Said Enough.**
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 1:00 AM UTC
I've found my new obsession.
Smirk affixed to his face
with sarcastic remarks
and slippery words,
mysterious in that stupid
teenage way.
I'd **** to hear what he has to say
about the nonsensical ********
we're forced to endure
each day
that the government calls an
"education".
I'm sure
his opinions on how
we're taught to the standardized tests,
nothing more
and nothing less
could cause enough raw power
to run the whole of New York City
for a month.
Though, too, I'd **** to learn
the terrain of his lips
as our bodies
slammed
against lockers,
oblivious classmates
a wall away
consumed by the
awesome
world of geography,
missing out on something
so
much
more.
He and I,
we'd know what more is,
we'd know how to consume it,
how to keep it at bay,
how to work it
like a hat,
a hat we aren't allowed to wear
at school.
We'd laugh at our own obscurity,
and shared secrets
would run through our veins
like blood,
one cut and it all spills
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 10:16 PM UTC
I'm my mother's daughter
It's in my genes to cry
The littlest things set me off
When I was in third grade
I cried at my standardized writing test
It wasn't hard, I was just stuck
I love writing
I'm good at it
I always have been
But I couldn't handle the pressure to write well
That my entire life was based on my grades
and how well I scored on tests
And wrote about a three page story
I cry when I'm frustrated
When I could do a math problem on my homework
When I couldn't remember simple biology questions
But I did well on the tests
So they assumed I was fine
I assumed I was fine
How could I not be fine, I did well
I was talented
I was skilled
And I was doing well
My life was too good for me to be upset
I had to reason to be upset
And no one realized I might no be ok
Until I stopped eating and lost 15 pounds
But even then I told myself I was fine
I was eating less because I was doing less
I wasn't using as much energy so I wasn't eating full meals
I only at a tiny portion of my already small plate
But I was eating so I was fine
I moved out and started school, fully online
I was lonely
But I had my roommates
So I was fine
I couldn't bring myself to go to the class I thought I would love
I was failing a class
I was doing nothing to fix it
I was starting to hate writing and reading
But I had a plan to leave my major
So I was fine
I failed my first college class
But everyone gets one mistake
Everyone screws up once
It was during covid
Everyone is struggling
So I was fine
Everyone else is fine
So I am fine
And I keep telling myself that
In hopes that one day it'll be true
I am Fine
Jan 10, 2022
Jan 10, 2022 at 2:12 AM UTC