September. That time of year. 

When the first six letters of the alphabet, except E,

would matter for nine crucial months.

8 hours a day

    5 days a week

       36 weeks

          1000 kids

               1 me.

All of a sudden, the peaceful orchestra of

the birds singing, the bees buzzing,

the colorful leaves dancing on the swaying trees 

was replaced by the sound of my Converses,

chatting away on their journey between

the math and science hallways.

The air inside this maize and blue building

turned thicker and heavier with overwhelm,

even though the autumn air outside felt crisp. 

I couldn’t take it anymore: the stress, the pressure.

I found myself outside, silencing the chaos in my head.

Breathe in, breathe out.

The trees’ wooden shoulders moved up and down with mine,

and every few breaths, let a colorful thought fall to the ground.

Just like those colorful thoughts in autumn,

my thoughts became still and my mind reset.

And now, 8 months later, the colorful trees are back, 

But the overwhelming air isn’t. 

The air outside is clear and so is my mind.