Forget your Dreams.

Zombies to my left and right, 

eyes half-closed as we write.

The shrill alarm screams,

and we wake from our dreams

to be dragged down the track

that leaves us raw and cracked

Down the looming corridor

Don't look at the coroner 

he decides your fate

Test A, or B?

Pencil to paper,

scratch, scratch, 

Our hearts taper

as we're filed down

to perfection

4 AP classes?

That's not enough.

Your eyes should be red,

your hand swollen from writing,

your body dead 

from avoiding bed,

your mind 

slowly

⠀⠀

and surely

⠀⠀

dying.

⠀⠀

⠀⠀

⠀⠀

High school fun:)