Dear High School,
I wish that trying hard was enough to please you.
I wish that the hours I spend stressed were enough to "succeed".
Do you know that I have spent hours crying over you?
Do you know that you exhaust me, mentally? Physically? Emotionally?
You make me work all day and then send me home to do more.
You have taken my mind, my time, my body, my enthusiam.
I don't have anything else for you to take.
I think we need to go separate ways.
With everything I still have left,