My hand is home to all my dreams

I trust in the repetition
the work of the Mantra

more and more recited
with love.

I trust in the deep ever-more
of life

the reaching out
of Love.

I feel like I'm supposed to be somewhere else
But I keep waking up to the same ceiling.
Tethered to a body.
Anchored here.
Inside a character that I no longer want to play out their story.

I want a new one.
New everything,
before my soul consumes itself,
plagued by restlessness.

Approaching the stand,
She shook with ultimate fear but
Also, excitement.

"There's not much time."
She heard them whisper urgently in the background.

Quickly she stepped forward
And glided her palm along the old leather cover with a gasp of awe and fear.

She tucked her fingertips
Between the gold lined pages and
Pulled it open.

Scanning and flipping through pages
She found her name but stops abruptly.
Closing her eyes and holding her breath, she slowly peaks open one eye.
Was she ready to know her heart's question?
She looked and tears dived over cheeks.

In cursive
There it was written next to hers.
"Hurry." They whispered again, snapping her out of the daze.
She quickly gathered herself and shut the book of fate.

Quickly escaping without all her answers, but at least she had the most important one.

Staring blankly,
My finger slowly traces the circle
Again and again.
Wet and smoothly gliding
Along the ****** edges
Of the gaping hole
That was my chest.