In high school

I might have been considered

well what you’d call ‘cool’

but looking back now...

i’m thinking I was a tool

I thought I knew what was what

pretty sure

I called you a slut

but I didn’t know you

I’m sorry

If anything, I’m below you

and I’m sorry, so I’ll show you

you see, you judge me

and I judge you

but speaking from metaphors

is really abhorrent and

whores really rhymes better

with metaphors

but now

I’m distracted and the

explicit language should be

redacted

but it won’t be

because if you can’t see,

this is my poem and it’s

written from my home

and if there’s one thing

that high school teaches

it’s to give great speeches

and orations and

to give it so good

you get ovations in your ovaries

and the vibrations shake the aviaries

and by the way, dear diary

I’m done.