This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Soka chapter.
I see you there sitting in the cubicle
Head somewhere in the folds of a thick, boring textbook
You do not see me but I am
streaming love poetry from the books in my arm & the music in my ears
Flooding with my mind in a land faraway
A hurricane of pieces
Of black, gray, red & green
Dripping foolishness in a flurry of torn pages