truthfully

in a handful of months
i will become a story

delinearize the complex
masses of strings that intertwine our lives
so close so tangled
intangible

into five lazy words
where did she go again?

as if where i am
will become who i am
and who i have been
will fade

we are victims of convenience all of us
don't try to tell me otherwise
the infiniteness of these moments
is limited by these brick walls

when we escaped the bright classrooms
of childhood
we were going off to better brighter things
going back now feels wrong
a puzzle piece that used to fit
warped by rain

at least we were still near
we kept our new worlds within reaching distance
if we had wanted to stick out a trembling hand
we could've
a safety net a safety blanket

the darker halls of (im)maturity
with bells governing our life warped even faster
yielded only hazy smoke
within the moments of being handed a diploma
it was clear that we no longer had a place here
(schools like these are factories they churn in they churn out
there is no lingering in the hallways after the bell rings)

so please let me know what happens now?

i get handed a diploma twice
but the space between is small
and the space after is gigantic
not long enough to throw myself
around its legs and refuse to let it
budge

i feel as if the moment i glide down those steps
i will no longer fit into this life
i have created for myself
a life i happen to like
(or maybe i will warp slowly
from the inside
out)

we are all victims of convenience
don't try to tell me otherwise
casualties of the infinite pulsing push of time
aggressive harsh and unable to be stopped
by a sixteen year old girl
crying quietly eyes flashing
(wanting to punch something
wanting to for goodness sake do something!)
in her messy room