Last Thursday

My first period
I am a teacher's aide
for a teacher I had
as a Sophomore.
Her concern for me grows
as the damage
inside of me does.
I can't convince her
that she doesn't need
to worry
when there was
a meeting
at the beginning of
my Senior year
to tell my teachers
that I'm terminal.
All of her questions
about test results
and what Kjrsten thinks
about my falling apart
is making me tic.
My stupid shoulder
throws itself around
as the anxiety
builds
in my stomach.
This makes
my cough worse
because
it's hard
to get air in
when your throat
is closing up
every two seconds
as your shoulder
collapses
your upper body,
ripping through
the air in
quick, painful
movements,
jarring already sore
muscles.

At least my
US History teacher
doesn't even know how
to contort his face
into a look
of pity.
I swear he didn't
blink the entire time
Vice Principal
Andersen
explained my
conditions.

I really like him
for that.