I am wiser

Than thinking

I can squeeze my way through the cracks 

Of a life

Where there is no space for me.

I will not stretch out my arm toward a hand that is unreachable.

I will not gasp for air swimming underwater

Into a heart that doesn’t yet know the rhythm of its own beat

For how could I expect a heart that is unavailable to itself 

To dance to the music of my own?

I will not prove myself

Because in the right life for me

There will be nothing to prove. 

In the right life for me

There will be space.

I will walk through the door 

Sit on the couch

Put my legs up

Open a window.

Or maybe the windows will already be open

All of them

With plenty of room to breathe, fresh air.

Sunflowers on the table

Coffee brewing in the kitchen

Good coffee, too

Not the cheap sh*t

The kind of coffee that was crafted with love

By a family in Guatemala 

Roasted with vanilla and nutmeg 

The beans happily resting in a worn twine bag that had traveled long and far to make it to your countertop. 

In the life of the one for me 

There will be space.

There will be nothing but endless, infinite

Motherf*cking space.

There will be space to communicate

There will be space to express

There will be space to be nothing but

Myself.

There will be no games  

No questions

There will just be space.

Space to walk through the door

Sit on the couch

Put my legs up 

And breathe. 

~