when you ask

my palms are empty but bleeding

i have absolutely nothing to show

but no matter how many drops of

blood from my cracked skin

sweat from my overheating hairline

tears from my swollen eyes

slip through my fingers

it’s not enough to

intertwine to create numerous graduation cords

fold in itself to sew stoles

flatten out to type out an acceptance letter

with a bare neck and much cheaper tuition bill in hand

i walk the stage

i know i

smile because it’s decorum, not because i

believe