I’m not patient.
I do want it all.
I can do anything, and still feel nothing.
It’s a broken, scary feeling, seeing yourself in someone else’s mirror.
Masking desire in a captive mind.
I am everything and everyone for everyone besides one –
Winding all these frames of time into a locked box of seven days.
What becomes of the last?
A comfortable scent lingers.
It’s a broken, scary feeling,
Seeing yourself undecided.
I’m starting out with a white blank page,
Recycled paper < recycled heart.
I can choose to be excited, delighted-
I can choose to stay on the beaten path.
I started out with a white blank page,
I realized there was nothing to fear.
As my pen slipped across in the velveteen hour,
Admitting flaws –
I drew myself a new map.
A new beginning.
Who sat here before I did?
A famous writer?
Is there a compartment full of secrets?
This desk, itself, is my new muse. I can imagine its stories all I want.
Just sitting here inspires me.
Look out world.
This is going to be my year, come hell or high water.