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Crimsyy Oct 2016
If I were a solivagant star in space,
I'd link arms with the universe
and have her tell me that
all this pain was worth it,
that something golden would
blossom from it,
maybe then I'd be more focused
on planting seeds instead of
always drowning in the weeds
of my blackened psyche.

I'd burn, explode,
spontaneously combust,
and no one would tell me
that to confirm was all I
had to aspire to,
no one would be around
to make me feel like
too much of a burden,
as if I feel too much too quickly,
too warm, too much, too fiercely.

If I were truly solivagant,
I'd have no reason to cry
when asked "How are you?"
I would not avoid the
ever familiar question
"How was your day?"

Wanderlust would consume me
and I'd search for hidden gold,
space would not cheat me,
would not let me crumble and fold.

My tears would be of use,
they'd fall on clouds as messengers
to rain upon the seeds on earth,
to give life to the breathing dead.

I think I'd love to be
a solivagant star in space,
no magic tricks would be needed,
no quizzes to tell me
that I belong in this place.
Selena Oct 2014
adj. wandering alone*

She felt the wind rustle her hair
As the falling leaves caught her eye
He allowed the drizzle to graze his skin
As umbrellas popped up on his sides

The grass was soft between her toes
As the pebbles were firm beneath his heel
She absorbed the vastness of the land
And he wandered around his city of steel

Leaning back into the tree’s embrace
Her gaze landed on a flower of white and gold
He listened to the drone of an airplane above them
As he stopped for a while on the side of the road

She closed her eyes
And allowed the quiet calm her
Basking in the rush of the metro
His nerves bubbled with adventure

While she inhaled, she thought of a boy
Whose eyes lit up like street lamps
With a smile that would make it through
The rain that had his clothes soaked and his hair damp

And she wondered if he would
Think of a girl
With flowers in her hair
If he’d take her hand
Look her in the eye and say
Let’s go someplace, anywhere

They’d hike up a mountain
Or weave through the subway
Maybe visit a museum
Or huddle under a tree on a windy day

But today she was here and was comfortable
In her field by herself
And he was calm and content
On the sidewalk with everyone else

A companion would come one day or another
Right now she was happy to be alone
As he was thrilled to be among hundreds
Yet still be on his own.
I appreciate simplicity.
The mediocrity
Of being absorbed in my thoughts.
The life of a solivagant.
It's who I am.
It's all I know.
Do not deem me ill because
You have never sat down and
Explored the dynamics and complexities
Of your being because we are clearly not On the same mental or spiritual calibre.

— The End —