By Malia Mendez
I can confidently say I feel like I’m dying,
My body crying and my bucket of shits empty,
Mom says this stress is like an infection,
And, sure, the elitism has made my personality dry,
Elite education has positively spoiled my youth,
But at least I’m not alone!
There are times when everyone cries alone,
Locked in their room or in Green dying,
How can I be worried about our youth,
When CAPS looks pretty empty!
Noro may have sucked us dry,
But at least we don’t have infections!
Does chronic depression count as an infection?
Because honest to God my mom won’t leave me alone,
She says tests shouldn’t make my throat dry,
That it’s probably bad my plants are dying,
Hey! It’s not my fault my water bottle was empty
And those little succulent shits couldn’t maintain their youth!
Who says taking naps isn’t taking advantage of my youth?
Sleeping alone can’t get me a sexually transmitted infection!
Yes, mom, my trash is empty,
And yes, of course, through God alone
And the blessing of our Lamb Jesus dying,
My cup overflows and does not dry.
It’s just that these classes can be so goddamn dry,
And it’s becoming harder to believe in the youth,
When our earth is quite literally dying,
And ignorance is a sexy infection.
Nobody wants to be alone,
But even with other people we still feel empty.
I’ve promised my family I won’t leave this school empty-
Handed, and I won’t let our savings dry,
But how the hell does one network alone,
Or give off prodigy vibes in their lowly youth,
The Slump started out like an infection,
But now my work ethic is dying.
My flower vases might always be empty, I’m always going to feel like I’m losing my youth,
Thanksgiving turkey is always going to be dry, And my dog has a double ear infection,
But writing allows us to be less alone, and the slump is slowly dying.
Contact Malia Mendez at mjm2000 ‘at’ stanford.edu.