Rising and falling, warm
Nestled in pink, brown, yellow flesh
Flushed with pulsating crimson coursing beneath the surface
Throb to power rhythm, flow of survival
Stark white framework
Impending artifact
The form, suddenly uniform
Each shell held independence
A unique path, now reduced to dust
Who decides I pursue the life of less?
What enchantment leads to this tragic destination?
When do I accept the small destiny, the miniature existence?
Where do I claim the forever failure of my girlhood to rule the world, the stage, the word?
How do I desire the gleam of that lacking the glitz and glamour?
Will you tell me that once I have kids I’ll understand?
Will that be your next lie?
Will you tell me that I need to be realistic?
That I need to settle, to marry
That I must procreate to find meaning
I am not be content to leave a mere pile of bones
I am here for a purpose, alive for a reason
Oh, what’s that?
You shake your heavy head at my folly
You say I search for meaning in a world with none
Your disbelief is your burden, not mine
A journey with a lofty destination is far more fulfilling than one going nowhere
You shall see
I’ll get somewhere, be someone
Not frivolous and without weight
I’ll be an illuminator of dark places
Those you ignore and wish away
Love it, Jenni.