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

