I am full with feelings, opinions, and thoughts
looking out onto the trash filled city streets, out into the southern world,
everyone, every obvious object moves toward a purpose.
The dull shades of greens and browns,
set the tone for the day; the shimmering sun peaks through
the clouds, allowing a ghostly glare.
It’s the tangible torment of the day
that keeps the mental moments of me
acting impatiently impulsive with anxiety.
Look forward to the times ahead,
walking away from relationships terrible experiences
remembering some of my faulty indiscretions of times past
Is there helpful hope flowing in the air as I look upon the world,
upon minds, upon hearts, upon great intentions or great expectations?
what is to be expected of the unexpected?, what shall become of me?
Shall I be a desirable; desperate; dangling; damsel?
I shall be
the valiant, victorious, virtuous vessel
the very essence of me