Blank pages.
Dirty windows.
I walk through the deserted hallway.
I can hear the shouts of children repeat as I roam.

I see signs for clubs dangling
by long-forgotten murals.
I feel the sense of dread that infects every student’s body.
The hallway floods with discouraged children,
flowing to their next class.

Don’t think.
Don’t cry.
Don’t fail.
Never make a mistake.
But don’t be too good.
You can’t be sad.
Can‘t be mad.
Just be yourself and you’ll be okay.
Oh.
Nevermind.

Never good enough for anyone,
Not even yourself.
Why aren’t you good enough?
Why can’t you be good enough?

Crushing expectations seem to rush to my head.
The music of pencils scratching against paper
overwhelms me.
The shadows mislead me,
like curtains on windows.

It’ll get better,
maybe.
Words dance in my skull.

What’s the point.

Empty.
Everything is empty.
I’m empty and weak.
I have to be the bigger person,
and turn my cheek.

Anger
Anger erupts in my head.
I’m angry at my thoughts,
my fears,
The do’s and don'ts,
And the tears.

The expectation of perfection,
It seems impossible to reach.

No matter how hard I try,
why can’t I be ideal?
The ideal person,
good at everything,
kind yet firm.
Why can't I be ideal?

Happiness.
What’s it worth?
How long can I go on without it?
A month, a year?

I’m breaking down.
Everything feels broken.
I feel broken.
I am broken.

Mirrors reflect sorrowful stories.
All I can do is just try to survive,
but I’ll never be good enough.
Never enough.