Poems from Room 209

Ayaan B.: “i woke up tired.”

i woke up tired.

Sometimes I wake up
with a bloody knife in my hand
I am a nice person
I am tired of having five different names.

I’m not a bad student.
I swear in my name.
I am tired of my grades determining my worth

I practiced runnin’ from fear, guess I had some good luck
But still
I’m tired of lying that things will work out

I don’t think anyone has any idea how tired I’ve been
of a world that refuses to call me by my name.

What are you looking for?