Breathing Down My Neck

Its that time again. The cool burns as you breathe hard, running to your final. 

It really is that time of year again. My hair is in a messy bun to be blunt. Eyes heavy with weight two decades older that my license states. Pillows surround me to keep me in a permanent sitting upright position. All to make sure that I can't, won't fall asleep. Time doesn't allow for that, when finals are breathing down your neck. 

In good conscience I should be studying right now. Three tests, and a couple of days to spare. I hope that's the way I continue to see. But knowing me the break down will happen in the eleventh hour. Then there will be nothing left to do but to cry, watching my world fall apart. 

Its what happens when finals are breathing down my neck. The paper of questions, takes on a life of its own. Demeaning, and questioning our existence in college; whether we really deserve to occupy the space in the class, in the world. And the seconding guessing comes really easy then. The flood of emotions and isolation sweeping over us, as we push ourselves. Trying to think confidently that we know the material, the we can pass, we can prove out professor wrong.

Its what happens when you have finals breathing down your neck.