You are smart.
New pages,
New faces.
Endless rooms.
A new chapter,
It will matter,
You must give it your best,
Do not make a mess.
Our first task.
Words swim in my brain,
Dance on the page.
When? Where? Why?
100%.
 
Do you want to go out with me?
They ask, form their pairs,
I can’t even figure out what to do with my hair.
At least you are smart.
The girls in the pages,
Are my friends instead,
I start to retreat: into my head.
At least you get 100%.
 
My most prized possession,
Silk hung down my back.
Half of it falls,
Maybe they will like me now,
Without 100%.
 
When I grow up?
A teacher, a vet,
I think that is what they expect.
 
My friend hugged a boy,
Will I ever be pretty enough?
Or will I forever annoy?
The walls started falling,
Moving closer each day.
I dove deeper into my books,
I swam away.
 
At least you are smart.
 
I hate this place,
A jail, a trap
I must escape.
 
Nerd.
 
Big brain.
 
Of course YOU got 100%.
 
98%.
I got 98%.
Why did I lose it,
I can’t even get 100%.
 
Numbers.
Logic- a sensical topic.
You are smart.
I must be perfect.
100%.
 
You are not perfect,
Why don’t you have braces?
You should hide your freckles.
The library is quiet,
Those voices go silent.
The books swallow me.
 
I scream at her.
She screams back.
She comes back.
Time goes quicker and quicker,
I leave them later and later.
I don’t care anymore.
I don’t want to do it.
But I have to get 100%.
 
Shattered on the floor,
My favourite pot and 8,
Swimming in the remanence of my cry.
She picks me up,
It requires some glue,
The walls got too tight,
Voices chased me too.
I pulled on her hand,
Opened my book,
Sleep tonight, would be overlooked.
At least you are smart.
 
Some ask it I’m okay,
Some get angry,
My pain falls down my face
I run to the library.
I study.
I’m not a good friend.
They don’t like me.
At least I am smart.
Am I smart?
I have to be smart.
 
Time flies and stands still.
Nothing changes.
They ask me as a joke,
For SRC I can’t get a vote.
I want to make change I this world,
Stop them from following my path as a girl.
But;
My bed keeps me hostage,
I don’t even care.
My appetite is stolen,
Aside of a chocolate binge
That scatters my skin.
 
Why am I like this?
I have the perfect life
It feels like I am in a vice.
I can do better.
Give myself a motivational speech
And start homework that feels
Within reach.
 
I move to my desk,
In cautious air.
Take a deep breath,
Let myself dare.
It’s just some questions,
I could do them in my sleep,
But if tackles me, as I fight in defeat.
I crumble with each step,
They stab through my chest.
No air. The pressure.
I cry. I scream.
I’m meant to be the smart one.
And some questions have me lean.
 
The demons keep chasing,
I scream in my sleep,
Maybe I should step down in defeat.
At least your still smart.
I don’t get it, what is wrong?
You’re grades are still strong.
 
Only 96%.
Not enough
Why aren’t you tough?
You are not enough.
 
They keep coming,
Running at me,
Jumping me,
At the same time.
I scream,
They stay.
I cry,
They stay.
 
I lift my sword,
Tighten my armour,
Ready to fight.
But I swing the wrong way,
I can’t stop the feeling, school,
It’s my family I slay.
 
They run, laugh, ignore,
I successfully push them away,
But my rock, no matter how hard I swing
She manages to always stay.
 
I scream,
She screams,
I cry,
She cries,
I just want her to go,
She’s going to drown with me.
But every time;
She grabs my hand,
Drags me to the surface to breathe.
No matter what.
 
We are locked away,
Don’t know the day.
I haven’t talked to my friends for a month.
A tsunami of school,
Comes down on me,
As I sit.
Alone in my room.
I cannot bloom.
I cannot survive.
I nearly fall, but a teacher hears my call.
 
My marks are perfect.
Studious, beautiful, passionate.
Will continue to achieve into the future.
What do they know?
A lie is truer.
I’m not smart,
Not good at art.
I hate myself.
They should too.
 
I cry, I laugh,
Sometimes I am numb.
You act bipolar. You are crazy.
It’s working.
I’ll make them hate me.
Everyone should hate me.
 
The ground is hard.
Cold.
This must be the bottom,
Why am I so solemn?
I trip,
I fall; lower.
This must be the bottom.
 
I am wrecking their lives.
 
They are better without me,
I continue to plea.
Just make it stop.
It has to stop.
I am not even brave enough
To make it stop.
 
I sit there,
I stare,
I consider.
I crawl into a ball and cry.
So hard I choke,
They call me crazy, a monster.
She doesn’t want to talk to me.
Maybe I am truly a bad person.
 
Cut my hair.
Again.
I don’t cry.
 
I feel better, temporarily,
I want to feel better.
 
My rock.
She keeps me grounded,
Reminds me what I can’t myself.
I am a good person.
She admits it, acknowledges what bi am.
 
I am sick.
 
They tell me they would have never known,
I seemed find.
I’m always so kind.
But it’s in my mind.
 
More hands reach,
Pull me out, and towards a mirror.
What am I telling myself?
Is it true?
Listening to that voice,
It can be a choice.
What truth?
That’s up to you.
 
It keeps screaming,
Deafeningly loud;
They’d be better without you.
I begin to fall,
But then remember the ladder,
I built up the wall,
I haul,
Myself with MY hands.
I silence the voice
I deserve to be here
I am more than 100%.
 
Eyes full of terror,
Fade to eyes of hope.
A spring returns with each step.
A new start.
 
90%.
It’s just as good as 100%.
As 90%
plus happiness
Equals success.
63%, ok.
I tried my best.
 
They voted for me,
Vice captain and SRC?!
I can make a difference,
Free from resistance.
My happiness inspires,
Drowns out the regular cries.
Maybe I am kind!
I smile at her,
Greet him,
They approach me for a chat.
100%.
I am more than 100%.
 
The demons attempt to attack,
When all feels to much,
When the world is silent.
But I fight back,
Armed with belief,
The most powerful tool,
And aim to achieve, inspire,
And be happy above all.