Gimme permission!!!

The pressure is building,

I wiggle in my chair,

I look longingly at the door,

It’s about to burst!!!

I need to pee. Badly!

I need permission.

It rumbles and grumbles,

The noise reverberates,

I press my tummy, salivating.

I hope for it to shut up.

I’m very hungry, I need food.

I need permission.

I want some denim,

The feel of it on my skin!

I don’t want to care about wrinkles.

The feel of stiff cotton, grey and dull.

I want to be free,  not conforming.

I need permission.

How many things do I need to ask for?

Why is there SO much protocol?

Why can’t I pee when I want?

Why can’t I eat in class?

Why do I have to wear freaking formals?

I don’t want permission.