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I’m five years old, unwrapping birthday presents 

out on my backyard deck. 

The theme was a cheesy Hawaiian hula, and I wore a 

green plastic grass skirt and a 

fake pink lei.


I had defective glasses

in second grade. 

The left lense popped out of my frame,

and scurried onto the floor.

I couldn’t see well without both so,

I searched on the floor like Velma, until

a boy named


found it for me. 


I thought I knew what love was

in middle school,

a boy, who barely even tried,

swept me off my feet.

Little did I know, 

I would carry the trauma for 

years after.

I was only 13.


Freshman year of 

high school

where I had yelled at a girl

in front of the entire class,

who had cheated on my friend,

someone who ended up not being worth it

because they wouldn’t go up to bat

for me.



I was free of the K-12 school system, 

and so ready to get away from most I knew.

Though, when it was time to throw my cap in the air,

I held onto it.


I’m a freshman in college, saying goodbye 

to my friend for spring break, 

sipping a strawberry smoothie,

blissfully unaware I would not

see her for longer than a week.


I’m a junior now, the oldest 

I’ve ever been. 

I’m becoming closer to the person

I want to be.


I wonder just how I’ve gotten here 

when I still vividly remember stepping onto 

my middle school bus for the last time,

refusing to turn around,

like it was yesterday.


Sabrina is a junior as a Professional Writing major with a Social Media Theory and Strategy minor at Kutztown University. Her interests are crochet, pets, and browsing social media.
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