This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at TAMU chapter.
And the years I spent unmoving
finally make sense—
and no longer can I feel the sun
or the grass or the rising tide,
and sometimes I’ll blink
and be half gone again.
For once, it is not a tragedy;
from now on, it is a relief.
All that came before is unable
to be felt, to be thought,
the worst and best a fossil now,
and the tears that once escaped
and salted the earth beneath me,
can pour free—now instead
they turn the brown grass green.