warm | poetry

5 // don't let me drown

"It comes in waves, I close my eyes, hold my breath and let it bury me..
I'm not okay and it's not alright, won't you drag the lake and bring me home again?"

There you were.

Your hands desperately clasping onto the jagged edge of the cliff.

I hate exams,

have I ever told you that?

I hate how our worth is measured in sheets of paper stapled together,

compressed with words filled with the various things we've learned in class.

But that's not all.

These sheets of paper deem how intelligent we are.

These sheets of paper determine our futures, our jobs, our success.

Without that 80%-90% and above, we are nothing.

No matter how much we know in class, it doesn't matter if you leave blank spaces in that exam.

Your mind is blank, heart in your throat,

lungs so tight you're going to collapse, you don't know what to do.

Here we are, drowning.

Drowning in the things we've studied for the past year,

drowning in past knowledge,

drowning in notes.

The build up, the climax, the anxiety.

Slowly, but surely,

you're climbing up that damned mountain as everything keeps on piling up.

One slip, and you go tumbling down.

There goes your diploma, your career, your chance at success, your future.

And so, you land on the cold hard ground, the air knocked out of you.

We're drowning, can't you see?

The words begin to swallow us whole,

past knowledge being crammed into our brains,

so much that they hurt.

There you are, gasping for breath, unable to breathe, to catch yourself before you fall.

Nobody's going to be there to save you from that drop.

Hang in there, everyone. We'll get through it.