rap my red hands with your ruler

rap my red hands with your ruler, woman.

beat down my boyish lust.

kill the only calling I ever cared about.

give me a grade, godforsaken prophetess.

I was made to make: you can’t make me.

your system says I suck. good.

A’s go to the anal and asinine. good.

my mind was made for more. good.

When you see my name on a hundred thousand words of my own imagining, you’ll know why I shrugged at your lectures and your all-caps proclamations.

give it to the freshmen. goodbye.