This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Leeds chapter.
It was a wobbly summer
A kind of time that felt disconnected
Ever growing, vine leaves climbing up the side of a
Baby pink wall.
I spent a lot of time nurturing me, the one on
The inside.
Eating cornettos in bed, practising yoga
Tippy toes pressed on damp
Green grass.
It was a wobbly summer, bright red jelly,
Sticky and sweet.
Time felt weird and wrong and strange, it gave me
Time, to address the weird
And wrong
And strange.
I felt like me. Comfortable with my skin
And my glitter and cracked heels.
It was blossoming, it was
Warm.
Words By: Charley Robertson