I am sorry for flooding your inbox
but I’m behind as usual and love deadlines.
I’ve got four more poems after this one.
I hope you don’t mind all the emails.
My eyes hurt and I haven’t done my
school papers yet.
My mother wonders about me,
how I’ll do in the real world.
I tell her I love her, and I’ll be fine.
I try to be brief, but it’s a special night
I can’t keep hiding under my skin.