This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Louisiana Tech chapter.
the road rolls out behind me like the slime from a slug
I am going nowhere fast but I promise you this time
I’m leaving, learning to burn bridges because I will
turn around, sprinting back, crawling, hand and knees
wash your feet with my hair, I am the hammer,
you are the nails, I swing. You duck. We built this
together, when it rains it pours, the match won’t light
rip it up, board by board by splinter by sweat, tears,
and spit. I hope I forget how to swim when I jump
into the river, I hope I drown coming home to you,
serendipity giggles in my ear, fate intertwined
with my fingers, going numb at the wrist when you
meet me on the bridge halfway, dropping the match,
running into you, burning down the city at the chance
to hold your hand