Finding Me Through You

Your kind of Art

"Okay class, go with your partners. It's time to recite your poems. I encourage you to edit and make changes to whatever you need to change. I expect excellence but also creativity." Mr. Ezra said happily.

His attention was drawn to DJ and I.

"Clutz and Lactose, after your revisions, you two are up first." He winked at us.

My stomach dropped.

DJ immediately sat next to me and stared at me with his famous grin.

How is it that he's chilling back while I'm over here panicking because I haven't finished yet.

"Have you finished?" I asked the grinning man sitting very calmly next to me.

"No." DJ cooly said as he leaned back on his chair, closed his eyes and put both of his arm over his eyes.

He even put his foot on top of the table. As if he didn't care about a single thing. No worries at all.

I'm over here worrying and trying to take matters into my hands while he's over here chilling without a single word written about our assignment.

"What do you mean no?" I panicked.

He shrugged his shoulder while his position stayed stationary.

"As in no, I haven't finished."

I took a good look of him. Then I wondered.

"Have you started?"

He took his arm off of his face and looked at me.

He gave me his most teasing smirk.

I swear, Mr. Ford.

I smacked him over and over and all he did was laugh and chuckle and giggle and every possible synonym of happiness.

What a tease this boy is.

"All right, I think Lactose and Clutz are ready to perform and recite. So everyone give them your undivided attention. Listening to them is part of your grade." Mr. Ezra spoke.

DJ and I stopped what we were doing. Oh my God. I am not ready.

DJ noticed my nervousness.

He grabbed my hand and squeezed them which caught my attention.

He gave me his sincere smile.

I took my book, thats another tally.

"DJ, Kath. If you will, please come in front of the room." Mr. Ezra advised.

DJ and I looked at our professor.

I was still focused on my under aged looking professor when DJ took a hold of my chin and carefully guided it so that my face was facing his.

"Poetry is expressing not impressing so you'll do great as long as you feel immense for it." DJ tried to cheer me up.

He noticed it didn't work because even after he said that I roamed around the room.

"Poetry is a form of aesthetics. No matter what you write as long as it has greater meaning to you and you perform it the same way you feel, you'll be fine. Trust me." He smiled.

My attention was focused on him.

"It's a form of art. Art isn't something you worry about. It's a way of expression, its taking something deep from your perspective and illustrating how you see it." He tried to calm me down. He's been repeating that over and over again.