It started in the morning.

I awoke with this sinking feeling,

Limbs sapped from strength,

Mind empty of energy,

But I got up.

Because I have to.

Because there’s no option not to.

By the time the bus came to school,

My asthma had decided to seize my lungs,

Leaving me breathing in whistle tones.

I don’t like the way my pumps

Make me feel

All jittery,

like my skin is crawling

Trying to separate itself from my bones.

But I took them.

Because I have to.

Because there’s no option not to

That is remotely acceptable to society.

My history teacher has these things,

Like the way her voice lilts in a scraping way that makes the hair on my arms

stand on end,

Or how she will bring her hands apart for each statement,

Only to clap them back together when she has finished each one.

Every. Clap!

Single. Clap!

One. Clap!

Each one chipping away at my sanity

And self control.

They set into me

As I suppressed the impulse to get up and leave.

But I stayed seated.

Because I have to.

Because there’s no option not to

That doesn’t end with me not making a scene.

Shortly after lunch,

everything in me tilted

On axis.

My head started to pound

As my body felt estranged,

Shifting like blurring in a camera lens.

My eyes started to protest

To every glimpse of light I was seeing,

So I went quietly to the nurse

And I swallowed her pills down

with the tears,

Even as I wanted to cry

Over how

Alien I felt.

But I kept my eyes dry.

Because I have to.

Because there’s no option not to

That doesn’t end with more questions I have to answer.

By the time the last class came,

I was tired and broken.

Study hall was all that was left.

I held my breath,

I could get through this.

It was almost over.

But as I walked in first,

My eyes started to burn.

Straining from the light,

I turned to the others,

Asked if I could turn off just one.

They said “no

we need to see,”

Despite two large windows

with sun shining through

To light up their self-lit computer screens.

Being outnumbered,

I turned to my teacher,

Asked if I could move

To the library

Where the light was more timid,

But he said no.

So

I took a space in the corner,

Put my hoodie over my head,

And withheld the urge to yell

At that insensitivity of the people around me.

But of course I didn’t.

I stayed down.

I stayed quiet.

I stayed compliant.

Because that’s everything that I am.

Because I believe that

there’s no option not to

That doesn’t end with me

not hating myself.

So instead I cry

helplessly

In a corner

With earbuds in

Hoodie

Up

Eyes closed.

Note:

This is abt me from a while ago. That is definitely not my philosophy anymore.