My heart, fragile as a laser carved eggshell, still beats.
Beautiful, i know it is, yet taken for granted and only appreciated
when it pounds against my chest
Why must I live this life I have chosen, indeed
why have I chosen this life?
fresh faced young women traveling the world
potent young men with women at their feet
children wild and fearless, bounding, leaping, laughing.
Have I grown so long that I have lost my awe and wonder?
Have I lived so long that tears supply the rivers and question marks
punctuate the universe where answers once filled space?
I don’t want to yearn; I want to live. I want
to color the stars so far outside of the lines that Time
and Space become mine forever. Life
is to be lived, not dreamed about.