(Four Years) Year One


Four years of my life are scattered across two thumb drives and a laptop or two.
Downloads of papers that other's have written sit stale, saved, long past review.
Half my wardrobe is purple, and too casual to ever wear
My bike sits in the garage, resting on deflating tires
A tired relic of a time when I biked everywhere
Sometimes my fingers ache to turn the lock
In a series of fluid motion that my heart never forgot
My first semester I had no friends, but made a 3.9
Welcome to college, welcome to the dean's list
Second semester I joined a Christian sorority
I thank God for it, because they were, they are, my family
And on a whim cut off most of my hair
The hairdresser hesitated to do it, and in the end, he was right
I thought moving out that first year and going home

Was one of the best days of my life


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