Morn.
Heat.
Amble onto the bus, flick my I.D, it's muggy in here.
Waiting for the bell, sweat drips down the lockers.
Sneakers squeak, linoleum, I like my friends.
Thinking quite a bit today, rush through ceramics, bored in english, caught with phone.
good chats in geometry, not gonna do well on the final, the bell rings.
Bus ride back, it's muggy here too.
Home.
Worn.
Rest.
Heat.
Stress.
It's too quiet in this hollow cave.
My thoughts scream at me.
Directions and accusations.
They bash my mind and scramble me.
Like imps they taunt my actions and motives
I lack the will to complete useless tasks.
This takes me further down from achievement.
Why? Should my motivation be spurred by final grades?
I have no need for this.
No distractions, focus attempt, fall short, 11 days.
11 till I grasp sanity again.
11 to finish work.
11 to iron out my schedule.
11 to volunteer.
11 till I start breathing again.
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