It is August, which means "Back To School" season is upon us! In lieu of all things "Back To School," I have been dwelling on the idea of dorm life. Since I have recently moved off-campus and into a fabulous apartment, I can't help feeling a little nostalgic when I see the dorm necessities section at Shop-ko or the posts about moving back to campus that are plastered all over social media.
As much as I am going to miss all of the fabulous benefits of on-campus housing, there is one thing I am positive I won't ever feel dorm-sick for: the showers. Or more importantly walking back to room 119 in squeaky shower shoes at 2 am only to meet the cute RA on their nightly 2 a.m. hall checks. Needless to say, I won't be feeling nostalgic for those awkward early morning squeaky run-ins. However, lucky for me, there truly is potential for poetry in every aspect of life. So thank-you, shower shoes for prompting me to write this poem, much love. (But, actually not really.)
Did you know it is literally impossible
to walk in wet shower shoes without them squeaking?
Or if there is a way
no one has ever made the concept clear to me.
Did you know it is strangely strenuous
to carry a load of a seemingly low weight
for a lengthy distance?
You start out with a cup of water
and end up with a gallon.
Did you know it is incredibly difficult
to read a book without becoming
one of the characters?
And then after you finish the book
you kind of wander around blind
trying to find a land where
fantasy and reality coexist.
Which reminds me:
Did you know it is absolutely hopeless
trying love someone without losing yourself?
Did you know it is astonishingly pretentious
winding your way back through
the mountainous trek of
fantasy and reality
in squeaky shower shoes
carrying a multiplying burden
just to catch a quick peek
of who you used to be.
