Poetry

Searching

When I can’t find the answers inside,
I go outside to look for them
I strap on my sandals
And if I’m feeling really lost,
I put on my sunglasses and a hat,
that way,
the people won’t see me walking in circles

Or maybe they still will

I put my headphones in my ears,
and blare some hard, rugged song
that takes me from my path
of daffodils
and empty fast food cups
and old men on bicycles to
some dusty old road in the wild
wild west where every man who
passes is a young, dashing, sensitive cowboy
and there isn’t any litter at all

I walk like I’m on a mission but I
find myself slowing down in front of
people’s doorways,
peering inside for the answers
to all my questions

Today I saw a house tucked way
back behind a grove of cedars
It was all dark in the windows
like there wasn’t any electricity
at all and it made me feel at home

There was a hose all unravelled and leaking
water slowly onto the lawn and I looked into
the damp green grass and I saw home

I wondered if it were really me and
my lover who were on the inside
And if the house were really some
place western and lonesome
As the song I was listening to ended
I realized this was not some lonesome place
but was still right here in the city

I passed another house and there was a young
woman bending over, pulling weeds from a garden
I could see her brunette braids and I wondered if
she were really me but
I couldn’t see her face because it was hidden
behind a blue hat

After thirty-minutes of walking
my legs shuffled me home and I stepped
inside, still exhausted
I hadn’t found my answers,
save the realization that I’m just
a confused little girl who strongly desires
to be a woman

Hey,
I guess that’s something.

6 thoughts on “Searching”

    1. Something like that, maybe. The thoughts just happen, and I record them, but I don’t spend a whole lot of time thereafter trying to figure out “what it means.” I’m glad someone does though! Thank you for your continued support.

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