Tuesday, October 15th, 2024

12:54 p.m.

I'm sitting in my history class

door to my left, phone to my right.

writing a letter to God

instead of taking notes

like I should be.

I'm tired.

My hands twitch constantly,

the foreign feeling of my

twitching fingers tugging

lightly on my forearm

as if nudging me

to write, to paint,

to create.

I pray silently that

my day won't be as

colorless as the sky.

A reason to smile for real would be nice.

1:25 p.m.

My professor rambles about French maps.

I can't unstick the thick feeling of guilt

from deep inside my chest. It hurts early,

I have not broken our hearts.

Yet.

1:56 p.m.

The professor tells us about Dubai in the 1980’s, a picture of the old city’s dirt road on the projector.

My right hand twitches again.

My professor mentions war.

1:59 p.m.

What about me?

What about

the pain-free life

I’ve craved since birth?

My guilt grows. I feel selfish.

People all around the world

are dying, starving…

Suffering.

At least in that I keep them company.

2:14 p.m.

My professor dismisses us.

I get up and walk

out the door

leaving his classroom

behind,

begging God to

let my troubles

stay back

with it.

Once more my mind falls victim to

the thickness of my guilt, gluing

the thoughts deep in my chest, and

just like always they stay,

walking right back out

the cold wooden door

along with me.