COLLEGE

She is frightened.
By the buildings
And the laughing, smart looking people,
Looking so self-assured as they make their way
Across the sweet sea of green grass and old oak.
She sits in a room with strangers,
Students,
And ask questions
They don’t want to ask,
Because, well, then they too would have to confess,
That they are vulnerable.
How can I choose?
How do I know what I want?
I’m 18.
All I know is,
Things keep changing.
I want ice cream.
Does that count?
Maybe.
It’s as good a place to start as any.
What kind of life do you want to lead?
What do I want to see when I wake up?
What should things smell like?
As I stumble to my room
When it’s late.
How does a classroom feel?
Is this where I will meet my husband?
Or make some decision
That I will always question?
Will it be better here?
Or there?
Look,
Forgive yourself for not knowing,
Anything.
Like the rest of us.
And go have some ice cream.