She is –
Looking in.
A stained coffee cup.
A squinted eye.
The sound of a laughing hyena.
A bleeding heart.
A delicate compromise.
A voice dancing free.
A song, a speech, a play, a lie, a plea.
An ever-changing mind.
John Bender’s fist in the air.
An airplane heart.
An anchor dropped on Nashville grounds.
Soccer tournaments and Sunday bike rides,
A permanent force of nature.
A fledgling phoenix,
Wishing her time would come.
Glitter and hiking boots,
Dressed in layers, tie dye,
Holding the hands of assertiveness and confidence,
Not Like The Movies.
A weathered bridge
Standing strong.
Seeing what others miss.
Learning to breathe,
Wanting to stay forever
In the land of anywhere else.
Drowning in standards of perfection, popularity,
Illuminated by the somber glow of her computer screen.
Watching from the corner.
Taking that risk.
Finding her voice.
Launch out on her story, Muse, as she launches into it
herself,
As she explores fairytale endings
And writes her own.
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