(above, the lovely melinda)
sometimes it feels like tiptoeing
barefoot on broken glass
deep down inside,
delicate and deadly.
but that is beside
i was thinking i would be more evolved
surely the size of my ass and the state
of my hair
should not dictate my happiness
(oh but it festers.)
i think about the lists upon lists
of my heart
that have built up over the years
boys with sad eyes and pretty guitars
a novel of promises
more champagne than i could ever consume
in one lifetime
a cottage by the sea,
sandy floors and tangled sheets.
a world of my own free of pain, cruel words
an ending to the chaos.
perhaps i almost pulled it off?
but not really.
i find myself with no sea
a quiet yellow house that i love and fear
at the same time.
a completely different story
than the one i had
carefully mapped out
but sort of magical
all the same.
do not be fooled.
i do not know what i am doing.
i do not know how i got here.
i only know i love the setting of the sun
and the funny expression that invades your face
when you thought that life could no longer surprise you.
those fucking rigid lists of demands
these are things i need to be happy
somehow reincarnated into
i really want to be happy where i am at.
i would like to think we are all more
than a number on the scale,
a facebook page,
or a bank account.
i would like to think our
influence is unmeasurable,
and that there is no finsih line
because everything we need is right
here where we are at,
and always has been.
its so simple and yet
i cannot grasp it.
i am young
and i am humbled.
forgive me, beautiful life.
this is where i am.