I fucking hate exams

My hand scribbles “good luck”s and “all the best”s on sweating paper that cringes in stress. The words are weightless and their meanings fade into whispered wishes that accompany red ribbons tied on sacred willow trees.

Giving them out will feel like burnt paper offerings Tossed into the wind; Tokens of repentance and plea that serve nothing But to beg the mercies of unhearing deities.