Morning Dew

By Andy Nguyen

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Maybe it was time for a break, a gap year some would say.

I didn’t think I was ready for school again,

so maybe if I pursue something else.

Work maybe,

something equivalent to what I would be missing if I were to continue school.

Instead of school coming in August,

I instead worked.

As with anything I’ve experienced already,

this feeling: disappointment.

It was not the same,

it was nothing what I was used to,

I was spiraling out of control.

I didn’t feel like myself,

this time I couldn’t feel the same

monotonous

motions

that

plagued

my

past.

This time it was the pain and darkness from beneath all that,

palms sweating, arms were heavy.

There was vomit on the floor already,

the feeling where you’re trapped in your own prison,

made for you by your own volition.

There isn’t a feeling that I haven’t felt the most.

Walls were painted white to pull you down,

the floors made from linoleum hard as rock.

It hurts.

when you fall face first after failing again and again.

Windows barring your skin from ever feeling the warm sunlight again.

Until they let you out of this rat trap that you willingly came to.

Just like that, just like school I was defeated.