“Don't you understand yet?”
My pencil tip breaks, and with it my self-control.
I clench my eraser
As if I could make any moment go away.
My tongue is rough with fear and
It refuses to synchronize itself with my mind.
My fingers quiver and I
Drop the pencil from my suddenly so unwieldy hands.

“Must I explain this again, really?”
I shiver beneath the ponderous weight of your expectations.
Shriveled by your accusing voice,
I try hard to slip into the burning warmth behind my eyelids.
There are so many words for mistake,
Yet they all signal failure in lengthening extremes.
How can I avoid accusations
Made by gradebooks and single letters written in red?

“Is it any clearer to you now?”
My tears trip over the ledge of my eyes
and come sputtering down, making my textbook fertile and arid.