physics

I wrote a lot of the poems posted on here in my 8am physics class in high school and I both hoped and dreaded that my teacher would see them.

the pain is so overwhelming that i write my poems in broad daylight

in my physics class

8am in the morning and all I feel is despair

my hand scars the insides of my pretty journal

pages hurriedly shut closed as mr (name) walks near

my eyes meet his and I desperately look to see if he could read the jagged cuts of my pen

I dont know which answer I want to find

how would I let him look at me if he saw what I wrote?

if he knew what happened at home?

teach me physics?

i want him to know so that I never fail a quiz again

my journal is within his reach

i hate his class and i wish i could hate him

watching as he decides to ignore the monstrosity in front of him makes me hate him

how can he not see it?

how can he not see me?

he is my one hope and he has no choice because he is a mandated reporter

he has to be my hope

he is my teacher and I hate his class

i get attached so easily to people who would legally have to help me

I daydream about them finding out

fantasize about being saved 

and finally being cared about

but he is my teacher and I hate his class and I hate him and I hate physics and the only thing about me that he cares about is my quiz score

he did report me one time

only because I asked to sit away from the sick kids though

I never asked him how he got it wrong