Heels clicking, hips swishing
Fluorescent lights flicker, reflecting in the shiny linoleum floors
Teachers stand stiffly by doors, searching for something,
In the throbbing mass that stands, walks, slides, dances
To their next class, another 45 minutes
Of counting down the clock
Couples coyly kiss in stairwells,
Avoiding the prying eyes of the
Lonely, lustful, jealous teachers,
This moment is theirs.
we find havens where we can,
Hole ourselves away from the hideous warehouse of flesh and metal surrounding us
Hoping for heartache, hoping for pain, hoping for a break from the
Tedious monotony that follows us like some slinking snake
Threatening asphyxiation at
Listlessly, we carry on
Faking laughter, faking tears,
We play the pretend game of the high school soap opera,
Desperately futilely fighting with our own ever-present emptiness
Like some great ocean storm that
Circles the slick decks of our consciousness.
Lost and stupid, we kneel and pray for relief.
© by Carly Gove.
Used with the author’s permission.