On A Walk Alone

Guided by a blind ambition,

I go down this road

that I’ve always been down.

Nobody waiting for me,

nothing to answer to

but myself~

Here, the flowers smell sweeter,

and the air a little more crisp,

the road is a friend of mine.

Strangers are family,

who promise to lend a smile.


hard to care when it is just me.

Hard to push yourself,

when you are the only one to answer to.

Dreams of big houses,

garden plots

and baby names~

biological predisposition

on hold.

It is not unfamiliar to women

to put everybody before themselves.

For me, everybody is illusory.

I say, they are me and I do this for us.

But then why are there fences

and just so much excess?

I want to be held accountable.

Am I soaking in the suburbs?

The Joneses moved out, a long time ago,

it is just our dreams and sacrifices,

our friends and the strangers,

which we compare ourselves to.

I am without water,

in the middle of the desert,

in the middle of strollers,

families and school districts,

writing a book about the Mistress.

This young man, he told me,

you’re worth more than your pussy.

He’s right, but yet, he does not see,

that a woman’s worth is hard to find,

that she’s raised as “less than”,

that everything she does is considered

value-less because it’s unseen.

Only devoid of her love is he aware

of the gifts she shares.

In those moments of gratitude,

she is known.

I will try,

I will try.

For now,

I’ll be complacent in

the smiles of the passersby,

and the flower petals falling

on the pavement,

evidence of a life

that gets lived~

grill nights and board games,

long sunset walks,

ice cream,

the American dream.

It’s just me that I have,

all of the time.

Sometimes I wonder,

what have I gotten myself into?

Where am I going?

This quiet, settled town is not the place for me,

soul wild and just beginning to flower,

craving to be free and full of desire.

Empathetic human beings,

we are so much more sensitive than we care to admit.

What kind of inspiration bath do you want to have?

They say look at your seven closest friends

to find out who you are,

could we not say the same of our surroundings?

Nature. Noise. Nurture.

I am amidst stillness,

this is my shot.

Time to go inside and find

the water.


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