My mother almost gets me sent to ISAP

when she texts me during Mr. Mattson’s class—

luckily he doesn’t hate me as much as Mrs. Fisher.

I glance at the text by my locker: Don’t forget

you have an appointment with the eye doctor

this afternoon. I’ll take you.

I write back okay

but I’d already been looking at my glasses

on the counter of my bathroom.

I only wear them at night

but there’s nothing stopping me now

from wearing them all the time:

no track to run

no burpees to knock

them off my face

In my skull are the same eyes

but my life dictates how they see.