The Real World
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I am a radioactive zone.
Danger zone, when I'm alone
In a classroom, in a crowd
Touch and you will perish.
One of those kids who
Thinks too much, who
Writes words on her
my jealousy fuels a fire, uncontrollable,
devastatingly beautiful.
it eats every ounce of fresh air.
a rage builds inside.
almost to sweep me away,
but leaves me dangling on dreams
So sick of freaking war
I turned on the television
Flipped the channel to watch some CNN
For maybe bout an hour or more
All I could see was war
All the fighting in Washington
Teachers always say “This will prepare you for the real world”
What does that even mean? Aren’t we already in the real world?
Is what I experience day after day somehow not real until I turn a certain age?
Walking into a room with striding lights
looking through trying to walk through the crowd of drug addicts,
a huge wave of the smell of alcohol causes your eyes to tear up
like if you hadn't blinked