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.