addywrites
Listen to what the lillies have to say to you. They see you when you walk past them, don't you know? They watch you as you walk down your sidewalk and through the neighborhood on your way to work. They know you. They know your stance and your life. They could have the answers if you let them talk.
What does that even mean?
Tell me, please.
Because I think I am overly-anylitical and it probably doesn't mean anything at all, but if it does, feel free to elaborate.
I think being a child was so simple. I think we all wish we could go back. We never really grow old. We're all covered in fairy dust, secretly, underneath it all. We did chores, we complained a little, and then we were set free. Liberation. If only. If only.
Stem. Definitely looks like sperm. Which brings all sorts of words to mind. Mostly human anatomy words.
Fallopian tubes.
Fart.
Wait, what? Oh, right. That's not funny. I'm older than that.
My love for you stems from the way you form your words.
Your hair.
Your eyes.
Oh, oh.
And here I am, with some supposedly perfect boy - beanie-wearing, sarcastic, musical, kissable - but all I can think about is you. The little affirmations.
Stop them.
Well, don't actually.
I don't mean that at all, really.
I have to be domestic soon. I have to cook and clean things and take care of myself.
Oh, my.
I feel connected. To you.
Maybe it's your eyes.
Or the way your fingers tap out the rhythm when we're in the car.
Or maybe it's the way your mouth moves when you talk.
Or maybe it's just because I want to be connected to you. That's probably what it is.
"I wish I was successful."
Here is my wish for this life: To never think the above phrase. To never say it.
To work hard and live my life to its fullest so that I shan't ever wake up one morning in my fifties and think,
"I wish I was successful."
The plan: Kiss him.
The plan: Graduate.
The plan: Go to NYU.
The plan: Grad school.
The plan: Marriage.
The plan: Live happily ever after.
The plan: ...
But, of course, the plan will never work out. My plans never do.
Plans. So many plans. Except for I never can keep them. They come and I wander off and I get too excited about something else. They never seem to work out. Fate has its plans and those are the only plans for me. I can try and defy Fate and work against it, but it knows what it wants for me; it knows what is best.
writing since 2011 · 12 entries · 10 days shown up
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the words Addy reaches for
planplansworkwishwordsmeanmascotpiecefateschoollivesuccessfulconnectedeyestalkprobably