Fucking look at me. I'm sick of being passed by. Sick of being discarded.
If I stood up and started screaming profantities, you people wouldn't even blink.
How long would it take for one of you to notice my absence?
Would it feel different for you if every morning my chair sat empty?
Would you feel cold if my eyes didn't blanket you from across the classroom?
When you spoke would your words feel light and meaningless if I didn't hang onto every one?
Fuck. I don't think you have the slightest idea of how I feel every time you drawl about your redundent problems, that only ever consist of mindless reptitive bullshit. Your so mediocre. And I've never wanted something more. I feel stuck in some sick time lapse. Watching you smile, but knowing you mean otherwise. Taking in your tendencies and observing things others would over look, only to go unnoticed myself. Under the radar. Apart of the fucking wood work.
I can't catch your eye. I'm disgusted with myself for wanting you in the first place.
What it would be, is what it wouldn't be, you see?