This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at MSU chapter.
Dreams like anthills
There’s all too many
But even with the clutter
New hills begin to form
Hopes build up so fast
Anthills appear in the cracks
Mounds are fresh
Dreams are promising
Hills so close
We want it so bad
But we’re blinded by hope
The mounds are gone
Sidewalks streaked with dirt
Dreams have faded
Pillows catching tears
Jagged red writing across my skin