A poem

Guess who’s a slam poet:
I’d like to finish high school. I’d like to finish sleepless nights where I can’tcan’t code my eyes because I know I will live again in the world of cold seats and broken nails and always knowing the answer, never being hungry or full.
I’m exhausted. It’s worth it they’re telling me.“ Oh het, act your age” but are shocked when I have the nerve to grow and change.
“You can’t wear that.” I do not belong to you. You can put a collar on a wild creature and are shocked when it bites. What a wonderful haze to live in.
“Just get good grades.” I did. Look at me.
It all lands on me until I am nothing. I exist. I am not existing. I am the void you taught me to fear and shy away from as if it were that easy. I am loved, but I love nothing.all because you had the nerve to reach me about numbers whole you watched me die. I guess you’ll be better now I’m gone. I wish I wasn’t wrong.