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Homework on the Table
as im sitting here
at the kitchen table
homework on the table
answers in my head
pencil losely grasped in my hand
physically i am sitting there staring at the blank worksheet
but in my head....
where arent i?
i am at a panic at the disco concert
screaming along to Camisado in the front row
swimming in lake huron
drinking the fresh water smiling as i dive down and swim until i cant touch
then getting slightly paniced
i am in Mr Walters fith hour languege arts class where i can be wrong
as long as i try
occasianally glansing to the right where a nice baseball player sits
at home in bed
my sister asleep in the bed next to mine
and therefore by default i am now safe
no matter how scary builabear bears can be in the dark
i am in the car with my parents in the front seats my brthers in the middle row
and me and my sister in the back
when its nighttime way past ten
and we're still an hour away from our destination
but im sucure and im content with tom pettys voice quiet in the backround
i am in the downstairs of my one and only home i've ever known
sitting in the cold but comfy rolling black chair
next to my favorite piano in the world
thought it is wooden, dented, scratched and three keys dont work
i absoluely adore the feeling it gives me
its as though i am the light of the sun
or the stars in the sky
like im important and i matter
and i love it
not like the feeling i get when im working on a worksheet that wont matter in 30 years
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