My bloodshot eyes match the color of the pen marks
I fear will soon litter my blue books,
And the dark circles that hang like moons underneath
Are garnering some worried looks.
Inanimate objects are starting to move in the corner
Except when I look, they have never been calmer.
I think my mind is breaking because
I was wondering if orange rhymes with breaking.
It doesn’t, but my mind seems to stop
Whenever I need it to be thinking.
The number of tears that have fallen
Are only matched by the times that I’ve forgotten
How to do anything remotely academic
And I stare at Twitter while my brain feels rotten.
It’s only a few days, but it feels like forever.
Just survive this, then all summer recover.