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Once I stumbled

Across a woman’s cry for help.

“I simply want

To be the same

For even three months”

Introspection strikes again

Left to wonder

What I would say of myself three months

Ago.

When was that, 

September?

Perhaps I’ve chosen to forget.

The cry I heard was right,

I am not the same

I was then, too sick

With worry, pain, regret

With longing, angst, sorrow

The arrow

Pointed to a new beginning 

But my car

Refused to shift into gear.

September has never been kind to me, 

And that was apparent

In the lines and lack of sleep 

That seeped through my skin.

Forcing step, by step

Piece by piece, 

Until the month bid me goodbye once more,

Dangling the threat of

It’s reminders in the coming year.

October came, and at last

Senses did too. 

Within the midst of all my sickness

It was no longer worth it

To keep acting

Like happiness

Wasn’t waiting for me

Just down the road.

Thanks for reading yet another one of my silly poems (:

Izzy Smith

C of C '23

Izzy is a Special Education Major at CofC with a minor in Religious Studies. She is passionate about education, politics, history, and music. In addition to being a teacher, she hopes to be a political journalist who advocates for equal rights for people with disabilities. You can often find her exploring the city of Charleston with iced coffee in hand or working at the local grocery store.
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