Please take me to a world
where it doesn't matter
if my socks match in math class,
and the square root of twenty six
can be whatever I want it to be.
Maybe the fumes from the
old textbooks they need to replace
will bring me closer to the world I saw
beyond my bathroom mirror,
where my hair flips the right way
and there are fewer shadows under my eyes.
That world is stuck in black and white,
pulsing with vitality and nostalgia.
I am an anthem of stitched together
song lyrics, the blood that pulses
through my veins.
I am the agony of the textbook pages
that have etched themselves
into my skin, the last strand of sanity
that keeps my body tethered
to the spiral-bound bookshelves.
I am an impossible girl
trapped between many realities,
constantly at odds with one another.
And there are times when the bedroom
walls become my only friends.
But perhaps the me in the mirror
finds ways to smile every day
and crawl out of the black hole
that has its tentacles wrapped
around us – the night