Do not be afraid to chart a course for the edge of the world, because sometimes, that is what it takes to find your own strength. The moon and stars may change with the seasons, but that wicked wind in your chest will never stop pointing you to where you are meant to go.
We poured gunpowder into our coffee and stirred it with matches. We stared down every horizon with fire in our veins. We traded the ocean salt in our eyes with unfamiliar highways and star-lit avenues. We wore canyons like cloaks and wrapped our feet with asphalt ribbon of the interstate burning beneath us. I have never felt more alive.
I dream of a world where
my happiness takes precedence
over everything else. Where I could
chase my own dreams, travel through
time, and start my own adventures.
In this little world, I could pack
a bag and run, not from fear, but
from excitement! Knowing that
the wide, wide world is at my
fingertips, if I only
reached for it.
Once you have seen the world,
wanderlust doesn’t quench easy,
but nobody told me that coming
home would feel like trying to
squeeze a tiger into a birdcage.
And although I miss terribly
the foreign chatter and the
challenges of a new environment,
my heart aches for the soft,
clementine skies of home.
And when I say I will run,
I do not mean escape. I will
fly on wings made out of fairy
dust and everything I overflow
with. I will disappear around
the curve of the world, far
enough that I won’t be forgotten,
far enough that I won’t be here.
I will be somewhere else, breathing
different air, soaking up new light,
meeting new people, touching new lives..