My palms, empty and open,
Are faced upwards towards the sky.
I do not know where I am heading.
I trust whoever is in front of me will guide me.
The things I leave in my trail
Will drown them in a downpour,
And I think that it's for the better.
I have never been the best at
Keeping my eyes forward.
My solution is to find someone to land on.
A soft place.
A landing spot.
A plot of land I can build a house on,
Make it a home.
But how could I
Know?
How would a shy insect know
To gravitate towards the foliage?
How would a wild animal know
To steer clear of us?
Instinct courses through my blood,
Like a river's growing white water.
The flutter of life in my heart
Is finally waking me up.
I cannot know exactly what it is
I want.
It must be something intense,
Something unforgivable and heavy.
I don't know what it looks like.
All I know is that
I am desperate for it.
E.