My sister once told me
There was an immortal jellyfish
Turritopsis dohrnii,
Its Latin name if I recall it correctly.
They revert back to their polyp stage.
Their lives beginning all over
I often think to myself
Wouldn’t that be nice
To have the power of the jellyfish

A new life from beginning to end

To have learned from my past
To make it all last
To start anew
To let go grudges, and try something new
To jump off a plane
To go to the show
To date a boy, I barely know
To a spontaneous trip to the coast
To  say goodbye to who I loved most
To make mistakes I never did
Knowing that I could start again.

Hollow
like a dying tree
alone in the forest where its brethren stand tall and strong
the sun peeking through their canopies of green
casting their shadows onto its blistering bark
cold, dark, rotten
past its prime and waiting for the end

but nestled in that tree is a nest
and inside that nest three bright blue eggs rest
patiently waiting to hatch

One is often tempted
To say night is a frightening place
but I take comfort in the eerie inky space
Like a woolen blanket, the twilight  soothes me
It is always more than it appears to be
It doesn't mask innocence nor pain
It doesn't hold you to its expectations
It's simple
It's true
The night doesn't lie like the day seems to do.

A summer breeze
billowing through the sails
of a lone boat floating on the water.

Ripples delicately dancing from the bow,
disappearing as they roll away
into the vastness of the bay.

The sky is a kaleidoscope of colors
Red, blue, purple, and even yellow
Dancing to the west

Birds soar overhead
their cries a perfect symphony
guiding one another to shore.

I take a deep breath
the salty air filling my lungs
with an almost euphoric effect.

I watch as those bright reds
bleed to blues
and the blues darken to black.

It's time to turn back to shore
The day is done
I'm not sure if I am ready yet

Grit your teeth and silence your words
A lady must be delicate, like the songbirds.
Stand up straight, your chin held high
Presentation is how you will get by.
Unruly hair in a bun, heels two inches tall
Perfection is a must as if you are a doll.
Go to college, get good grades
Being a writer won't pay anyways.
Be independent, but not too wild
We raised you to be a conservative child.
Look to your sister she does it right
She has a job, a boy, and soon a dress of white

But I'm not her, I try to say
It's frustrating to be compared this way.
I prefer the company of fictional characters
Then to be defined by the parameters
Of a life that you have created for me and not by me
Where I am scrutinized if I stumble
Or take a tumble.
When I look up, you tell me to gaze back down
Smile my dear, no one wants to see you frown

We want what’s best for you
Don’t you want it too?
A house, a husband, maybe a child or two.

But I still desperately hope they will see
What’s best for my life, for my future possibilities
Is for me to be me.