Blood Red Ink

January 25, 2018
By kalemike BRONZE, Topeka, Kansas
kalemike BRONZE, Topeka, Kansas
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Success is getting back up one more time than you have fallen down. Too bad I am clumsy."

I hate that all I can talk about are my grades.
How I measure
my worth with my gpa as a ruler.
How it seems my god is not a deity,
but a due date.
I know I am getting annoying,
but I can’t stop.

Because when I don’t focus on grades,
Sometimes my heart beats faster than a metronome
at a marching band practice
And all I did was answer a question incorrectly.
Sometimes I chew on ballpoint pens hard enough
that red ink drips down my hands
Like the blood that I so badly wish was blue.
Sometimes I tap tap tap my leg so furiously
That my friends tell me the table is shaking.

But never will I tell you I am anxious.
Sometimes I will tell dirty jokes
that come from a dirty mind
that only try to mask how messy I really am.
Sometimes I speak in fluent cuss words
from a mind that hates intolerance
And a mouth that hated the word ‘crap’ until 7th grade.

A lot of times I laugh like I smoke 3 packs a day,
but mostly my laugh changes depending on who I am trying to hide.
Sometimes I say bad things to good people.
But you wouldn't know that I only burn bridges
when I feel like walking until I am burning in the setting sun.
I might take a blurry picture for my Instagram before my wax melts away.

And when it does you might see a skeleton or nothing at all.
Because without my skin,
overthought outfits,
and my attention seeking jokes,
I am just a middle-class white kid who thinks he is deep.

If I didn’t care about my grades, I would be tainted with blotted ink.
If I don’t pretend my grade point average is going to save me
I don’t know if I will be able to save myself.
If I don’t tell myself that I am different,
If I don’t stand out just enough to fit in,
I would just be an anxious mess like everyone else.

I don’t think I am better than you because I get good grades,
I think I am different and unique.
But all of that is less true than me saying I’ll go to your party.

There is not a single line in this poem
that doesn’t have the word ‘I’ in it,
because I have no idea how to write about other people.

My dad says I am a world changer,
my mom says I am one in a million,
but there are 8 billion people on this planet
and all I can say for myself
is that I am anxious and get good grades.

But it doesn’t matter.
Ink stains shouldn’t matter.
Cuss words,
fake laughs,
forgotten friends,
and melted wax
only mean one thing.

I’m just like you.

The author's comments:

Anxiety and grades affect me and my friends immensely, and I want people to understand that they are not alone in their struggle. 

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