All the Notes I'll Never Leave

I can't. -A Slam Poem

Hello-
We are the forgotten chilren-
The children who sit in the back of your classrooms and pray that you will not ask us a question-
Hello- we are the lost ones who you left behind when you decided our problems outweighed us- which perhaps they do- have you noticed the weight loss? Have you noticed anything at all?
Hello-
We are the children who will stand beside you and hide behind your skirts despite nearing adulthood-
We are the children who have anxiety engraved into us by bombings and shootings and by mass media that tells us that we are NEVER perfect-
Hello- HELLO?
can you hear me?
You forget that I am here-
You forget that I am in your class even though I have sat next to you- YOU specifically- for YEARS-
Sat in front of you for YEARS-
Poured my heart out into your assignments for YEARS-
Yet you still don't listen to me when I say that I can't-
I can't focus on your class-
And I swear that this is not a toy-
It keeps me from peeling my skin off and holds my mind away from the compulsions-
I can't stop myself when my head is spinning like this spinner and I have to fidgit-
I can't stop the doodles that stream from my mind like oil from a machine- which is, of course, how you see me.
Every question I ask is only dismissed and you continue to deal in absolutes-
But in my head the world is not made up of black and whites-
You must show me the gray-
I cannot understand-
HELLO-
I am your student-
Please, tell me what I need to know to pass your class because I do not understand-
HELLO-
are you listening?