we chew on study guides and google searches, get high off of A+ and 'congratulations'.
we string ourselves up with private school shoelaces when our father hasn't hugged us for five years but sometimes he'll touch our shoulder when we get 100% on a test. we've been told all our lives that school comes first but when my aunt drowns herself in a blood red sink im only allowed three days and i better have the homework done
we miss one day of school every week to drive the 30 minutes to our therapists office, where we can breath out the pencils and crumpled papers inside our throats until it's the next day when i follow the trail of bleeding minds into classrooms where everyone has the same tired, tired eyes
we met a kid on the bus who was crying hysterically as he leaned over a sheet of paper, his hand was shaking as he filled in the problems we met a kid in the school parking lot with a needle stuck in her arm, a belt in her mouth around clenched teeth with a history textbook in her hand we turn in blood stained worksheets and when the teacher asks what happened we say it's fruit punch
over the weekends we study for next week, only to realize next week dosent exist because we're already dead
