Nothing. Poem by Onyi Ogwumike

Nothing. I don’t know nothing.
Sigh, teachers let out the most meaningful breaths.
Like an eternity of messages could be passed through one huff of warm steam.
Sigh again; she catches my roaming thoughts in her fist.
“Miss Melrose, that is a double negative. You mean to say ‘I don’t know anything’ or ‘I know nothing’. Which I heavily doubt. So tell me… What do you know about poetry? ”
I feel my audacity bubble; a smile runs from my mind finding itself plastered on my lips.
My self control futilely pleads with my vocal cords, and they prepare to be plucked by my bold, overconfident fingers.
What do I know about poetry?
Nothing.
Nope.
Nada.