The Independent Student Newspaper of Northern Kentucky University.

New Message

October 9, 2019

He likes my eyes

now that they do not hide


I blossomed

he says

like a flower in springtime


And all the wasted years

fall away like leaves

blushing red upon the ground


How could this be wrong?

I sealed it up for far too long

Nipped the buds

with self-inflicted chill


How many seasons

came and went

beneath the frost

of that unending winter?


But as he said to me

everything has its season

to grow


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