Tuesday, March 6, 2012

If wishes were fishes, my room would smell like Pike Place

I wish
         that I had somewhere to be alone
                 that I was a poet
                          that all my boxes of mac and cheese would turn into real food
        that my voice was as pretty as hers
    that I had someone to hold me.

I wish
        that I could remember what feelings felt like.
                that I had choices besides "neutral" and "apathetic" and "meltdown"
                       that I was better at being punctual
                       that I had gone snowboarding this winter
                that it was spring.

I wish 
         that I had succeeded in giving up Facebook for Lent
                 that I could play the guitar
                       that I could still eat ice cream without getting sick.
                that I was brave enough to ask for a hug.
        that I could see past what I wish for to what I have...

Like  purple Asics
               and legs that can dance
                       and  no-bake cookies
                            and an inviting bed

and a hope that tomorrow will be different than today.


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