I think I’ve grown to be a bit claustrophobic, because
the corners of these walls [hug-me-so-tight],
Why have I been unz-i-p-p-e-d and found e m p t y,
The silent chaos of this room doesn’t feel so right.
Last year, you took me on rollercoasters,
I counted the rooms as you ran by,
The portable near the PE track to Room 95,
And each ride would end with a bell’s ring, pencil out, a large test to simplify.
You’d come to school a bit early before 9’oclock,
So you could study in the library till the next rollercoaster would start,
You always wanted me, needed me; I gave you the calculator, the binder paper,
I’d watch as you rehearsed with friends during lunch, memorizing concepts by heart.
And when it was all over,
There’d be a parade of “How’d you do”s and comfort,
You [held-me-tight] as you talked,
For you, I was Triumphant.
But you’ve forgotten me,
You forget to take me running through those hallways,
Instead, the laptop steals away your attention all day,
Was I only a haze?
Scanned by your phone and then forgotten,
You litter the room with sheets,
They understand me, both from the past, we are simply
This week is what you call ‘finals’,
So why are you not clutching me,
Scouring through me, bringing books to light,
All you do is sit in that chair silently.
So I lay here empty,
Once full, once alright,
But it will be fine, because at least,
the corners of these walls [hug-me-so-tight].
The bench press,
Is sure to wear me out,
I allow myself no rest,
Just keep on lifting with quite some doubt.
And all we’ve used so far are petty dumbbell weights,
But for the last week,
I’ve stated to pick up the heavier mandates,
All in preparation to be seen as not weak.
So that by the time the day comes,
I’ll have enough muscle,
So the bench press succumbs,
To my constant wrestle.
I’ll sweat and I’ll cry,
All for a small result that will not suffice,
A tiny water break after in attempt to keep my spirits high,
Perhaps my preparation is never enough precise.