I am wiser
Than thinking
I can squeeze my way through the cracks
Of a life
Where there is no space for me.
I will not stretch out my arm toward a hand that is unreachable.
I will not gasp for air swimming underwater
Into a heart that doesn’t yet know the rhythm of its own beat
For how could I expect a heart that is unavailable to itself
To dance to the music of my own?
I will not prove myself
Because in the right life for me
There will be nothing to prove.
In the right life for me
There will be space.
I will walk through the door
Sit on the couch
Put my legs up
Open a window.
Or maybe the windows will already be open
All of them
With plenty of room to breathe, fresh air.
Sunflowers on the table
Coffee brewing in the kitchen
Good coffee, too
Not the cheap sh*t
The kind of coffee that was crafted with love
By a family in Guatemala
Roasted with vanilla and nutmeg
The beans happily resting in a worn twine bag that had traveled long and far to make it to your countertop.
In the life of the one for me
There will be space.
There will be nothing but endless, infinite
Motherf*cking space.
There will be space to communicate
There will be space to express
There will be space to be nothing but
Myself.
There will be no games
No questions
There will just be space.
Space to walk through the door
Sit on the couch
Put my legs up
And breathe.
~
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