by The Cowl Editor on January 24, 2019
Poetry
by Jay Willett ’20
We start with it, or better, among it.
Born into a world—it was waiting to catch us.
Some of us got the pleasure of being raised along it.
We never understood it then.
Not until we saw him or her.
Our little hearts thumped faster.
It felt good.
Perhaps we were still too young to understand it.
One day, we talked to them.
They either rejected or accepted us, our first set the impression.
Of what it’s like to develop it ourselves.
A couple of souls later, it ignited into a new flame.
Passion, desire, lust threatened to contaminate it.
The fire lasted for years.
Until one day, just as quick as it erupted, it faded.
Back into the hollow crevice it had emerged from.
We hated it.
We hated what we were born into.
Pain, sorrow, refusal threatened to eliminate it.
We wait now.
There is still plenty left to go.
We want to feel the thumping again.
We want to feel the fire.
But we can’t forget the pain.
So, we wait now.
Until the day our hearts can be reclaimed.
Until we can be born again.
Until we meet that soul.
And hopefully,
We end with what we started with.
Love.