XXII

“I’m still here!” I want to scream

but the energy of my desire takes and

takes from my energy to speak

to act

to do much more than be

It’s a strange feeling

watching everyone figure out how this ends

and their life starts

and how we’re all teetering

on the cusp of something big

I can feel the gates opening

the people I grew up with

crouched

ready to run

sunlight painting them in gold

casting shadows on those still learning

how to rest their fingertips on the track

“I’m still here!”

I say to myself as I climb towards first period, second period

Tuesday, Wednesday

June.

There will be a time when those three words won’t be true

but it’s not today

and I still don’t know which thought is more comforting

My mind likes to remind me about everything I missed

while I was slowly spinning in my orange chair

fading in and out of another lecture about

another injustice in this country

it was the random moments

the ones you couldn’t rely on

Inside jokes scribbled on whiteboards and

the surprise of a sub and

something about freshmen rolling a

recycling bin down the hallway and

being in a place where all you had to do

was ask questions and learn

I missed it every day I wasn’t able to be a part of it

but can’t seem to find the same appreciation

when there are

36

22

11

4

minutes left of class

Will anything be different when I’m miles and miles away?

“I’m still here.” A reassurance. A promise. A lie, in part.

“I’m still here?” Something my 13-year-old self would ask with her subtle pinch of judgment.

“I’m still here.” The words I’ll say tomorrow when I feel like time is a fishing line I’m holding too tight to.

My hands are stained,

bleeding,

but I’m still here.