Four Years

A group of four stanzas, four lines each on my experience so far in college.

My freshman year of college, I swore I found myself.

But in truth,

I was a naïve lump of pseudo-intellect.

But I was happy being shallow and filled to the brim with s****y mixed drinks.

 

My sophomore year I began to deteriorate.

I lost whatever I thought I found and collapsed into a million shattered pieces.

I learned the meaning of self-hatred and smoked weed four times a day

Like I did most things that year: completely alone.

 

My junior year I made a true enemy in the future.

I found an unsettling amount of solace in prescription pills and vodka.

I partied like it would put some distance between me and both my dark past

And the uncertain, hazy future that loomed ahead.   

 

My senior year I learn that narcissism isn’t exclusive with liking oneself.

I also learn that I am a bit of a narcissist.

I find peace in prayer and begin to find peace in my own reflection.

And I know that I don’t know very much at all. 

Reviews

[Nami Machae]

Very nice! Well written and shows a side of self. Great write!