i'm sorry if i

show up after the late bell

or doodle during lectures

i'm sorry if i

hide away how i feel

and throw crumpled sheets

of notebook paper

in the waste basket

from the back of the room

i throw away a lot of things

i'm sorry if i

throw away my talent

i throw away myself

that's just my fucking life

i'm sorry if i

flick through pages of the anthology

in the dark of night

when my mind is

clouded with fears

skimming for sad poems

i crave the comfort of words

i'm sorry if i

let these feelings consume me

i feel like i'm suffocating

and drowning in these sorrows

i'm sorry if i

put on a facade

and pretend to be

someone i'm not

you read me

like a well worn book

but i guess your eyes

can capture

metaphors and allegories

and fake smiles

when you jot

on my papers

see me after class