I watch from the back.
I watch people laugh and talk with their friends.
I watch smiles form and tears swell.
I watch pencils scribble over paper and passed between teenage girls.
I watch nervous students huddle in a corner, asking the teacher about every other question.

And here I am.

I am here, moving in slow motion while the world around me spins and tumbles.
I watch the teacher at her desk, praying that the day will be over soon so she could go home, open a bottle of vodka and watch reruns of One Tree Hill.
I watch the spitballs fly, and self esteem fall.

And yet I am here.

With wings that ache and a heart that desires.