inside classrooms and shoved into metal desks,
sits coils of fear,
wallowing in the pits of children’s stomachs.
teacher talks, teacher walks,
student cracks,
brain matter spilling out onto the tiled floor
like a melted popsicle.

the fear crawls under my skin, is laced under my fingernails.
sometimes my plastic mask slips,
and you can see the creature that boils under me,
wide eyes and raw flesh and pure rugged
fear.

eyes down, hands in your pockets,
pretend you don’t see the girl crying over a 93
or the boy faking sick because he’s so afraid
of that teacher, the one who bullies him
for no apparent reason.

we’re all pretenders come September.
6 am,
tie your shoes,
brush your teeth,
apply your mask carefully
with trembling fingers.
I enter school,
here comes the fear.
brace for impact,
shiver as it hits me,
only nine more periods to go,
four more years,
four more years.