I dream of a day when my heart no longer feels so heavy.
Like a balloon filled with water,
Pinned to a board waiting for a dart to strike… or miss… or…
I don’t know if I can handle the anxiety of waiting for things to burst whether beautiful or not.
Whether there’s a prize at the end or not.
Expectations are always inconclusive;
Not ending doubt or dispute.
I don’t know if I can handle the brevity,
I don’t know if I can handle the longevity.
Brevity and longevity are interesting in spec;
You see one is defined as shortness in time,
And the other perpetuates a long existence.
All I’m looking for is a balance.
To feel and see and to know but not have the weight… the price of not doing but then doing and not being what I want and regret and fear of what could be if it was.
To unkink and unknot the shoulders that have permanently attached themselves to my ears;
Such a tangled mess I am.
I want a long life but I don’t want to wait anymore,
But I’m okay with a short life but only if it’s been lived.
Where can I find the warranty if neither is guaranteed?
I overthink everything.