Writing — Freedom
Longing is like a sheet of paper
Blank 
And Then crumpled 
The creases remind you 
Of where you fell short 
And what you don’t own
But really 
They are self imposed
short shadows 
Of nothing 
Monumental
I used to think
About living a life 
That could be 
Monumental
And I gave up on 
Wanting

The birds out my window
Two in the nest
One mother
Watching the sun 
Pass through the sky 
Watching the present 
The other day I read
A quote 
Poking holes in our world’s 
Obsession with accomplishment 
What a novel concept
To just be 
Like a blank sheet of paper