I speak to myself with malice.
My words, sharp, cut like razors.
There is no room for acceptance;
self-love and I could never be neighbors.
Yet, I look for moments in pure color;
search for the sun behind clouds
to possibly escape the rabbit hole
and find a way out.
But my mountains have crumbled.
My rivers, wrathful and stormy.
As a wicked sinner,
I could never find glory.
Or I could listen to the hope,
and remember better days.
I could begin anew,
and accept what I cannot change.
Except the days have gone dark.
My voice drowned out under the current.
There’s no redemption for the hopeless;
is salvation worth it?
But still I can dream of far-off places,
places without toil.
Where beauty can bloom,
despite the condition of soil.
Katie Sand is a Psychology major and Creative Writing minor in her senior year. Despite her major, she'd like you to know she definitely can't read minds. After college, she’d like to travel the world and continue writing and learning. In her free time, you can find her reading, writing, and daydreaming. She'd like to thank her family, friends, and professors for their encouragement and always supporting her writing.