Your First Time

You sit in the classroom surrounded by strangers. 

Ironically this is not the classroom it should be. 

You’re a month out of school,

even though there is a month left.

 You are easily a decade younger than everyone in the class,

do not work,

are not paying actually paying for the class,

 have never written fiction,

and are a burden to the others who realize they are short a person with feedback.

You acknowledged your (in)sanity weeks prior,

but you did it anyway. 

Yet now trapped between the manic your avatar;

thinking as always. 

You then realize how much time you have:

You still have a decade-plus to get where these people are with they’re writing,

And you already see a few who you think you’re better than.

But then you think,

“Shit what about when I AM thirty?”

And you leap to fifty.

Then seventy.

And it goes dark…

Your heart and lungs implode with the presence of a black hole in your chest.

And you re-awake with a defibrillator like shock

Of consciousness.

…

You never want to go back there again