Dear Schedule,
I’m about sick of you.
I think I have a fever,
I think you’ve given me the flu.
I’m tired of the strangling grip
you’ve refused to loosen up
not even just the slightest bit,
not even just a little shove.
I’m tired of your constant chant:
Sleep, study, work repeat.
I’m tired of my big girl pants.
Sleep, study, maybe eat.
Who gave you the slightest power
To make me wish my days away?
To make me count them by the hour
Until I’m dead and in my grave?
Don’t answer that-
I know it was I.
It’s not my fault
I couldn’t help it if I tried.
Because without you,
I’m chaotic
But you’re the one who
Is psychotic
I think I like me better
Without you
Even if that means
My life falls apart.
Poetry
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I like how down-to-earth this poem is. It’s one of those pieces that makes you think, “Finally, someone said it!” It allows readers to get to know you, too, and makes your work that much more relatable. My favorite lines are “I think I have a fever, I think you’ve given me the flu.” Structure definitely stresses me out. I enjoyed the light-hearted nature of this! Looking forward to reading more.