I distract myself with certain memories
Of imperfect ages where I could have belonged.
I hum to myself melodies that do not exist to some
But exist in my mind and my hearts songs.

It sings songs of life where I am not a grain of sand
But a radiant beauty, bright like the sun.
A woman who can run through the wild
Without shame, without the nakedness
That comes from all her wrongs.

If I could sleep and always wake up to this dream,
Wouldn’t that be fun?

I cannot breathe my dreams into life
But I can continue to think and write.
Too many mistakes haunt me.
Too many expectations, daunting.
But I can continue to think and write.

For now, that will do.
Till sleep comes, that will do.