Chronic Monsters

Words, feather light, tremble through their escape.
Whispering “I can’t do this”

The bruising of ego is minuscule
Compared the 1-ton crushing weight on my chest
Compressing me into a nobody. 

A pound for every wrong answer,
Two for the mistakes,
Three for the mistakes repeated,
Four for the lessons never learned,
And five for useless tethered memories sinking me to the ground.

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