sweaty palms deep breaths and tense muscles

long-sleeved jerseys sports bras and spandex

crew socks ankle braces and black and silver shoes

and kneepads always kneepads

never forget your kneepads.


“volleyball is just a sport”

tell that to the girl who is crying

your teammate who has sprained her ankle

and is out for the season, her senior season

no, it’s much more than that to me.


beautiful bruises, based on a true story

floor burns paraded like skin-scraped sculptures

proof of dedication, a badge of pride

my bloody nose isn’t a sign of weakness

it’s a sign of perseverance.


nine years of my life I’ll never get back

and thank God for that

my teammates are my sisters

my memories of seasons past have turned to gold

and my nostalgia for the good old days burns black.


This poem is about: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741