You called yourself 99%
because you were a mark short of perfect
but inside, you had dug up paper upon paper
of destabilizing failures
of F's, and red pen ink
your handwriting is barely legible
underneath your messy corrections
trying to change who you were
but only staining the paper with your tears
you thought you were okay
but history exams crawled onto you
demanding your mentality
in exchange for success
so you signed the paper
with bloody fingers
knowing that another flunking grade
could turn a 99 to grime
YOU ARE READING
What's Wrong
Poetrysome of these might not make sense but trust me neither does my mind