This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Colby chapter.
Sorry if I step on
the hem of your soul.
This is the first
life I’ve ever lived.
So I’m not very
good at this thing.
We’re all driving blind
bumper cars in the ocean.
Shouting over the tides,
crashing against each other.
Grating the edges
of our dingy little
bumper cars like teeth.
Coming together,
drifting apart.
And here I am
carving an oar
from my bones
to paddle away
far from you.