In school they told me that I needed to stop writing
I was among the few that didn’t care about finding the function of x
So they told me I needed to step out in the hall
Which was perfect for there I could write
after the principle yelled at me
It was my best strategy
The next few days I was banned to pick up a pen
I couldn't write about the rhythmic pattern at which Stacy moved her head
to the silent music in her ears
the middle school romances
or the lockers that held years of people’s old books in them
and it hurts to say that I lost three weeks worth of life.
