I often see you through a glimmering wall. All of your words echo over space to reach my ears, until they bleed your thoughts. I am in school. My teacher calls my name but I can't hear her somewhere beyond the deafening sound of rotting and security. Apparently it's time to take a test. Let's see what we've learned: absolutely nothing. Why should I be the slightest bit intrigued by some numbers when I have an entire other life waiting for me in 8 months? Sometimes I worry because I try to get your attention, but you can't see me no matter how loud I scream or how hard I bang. You were only a piece of me.