In Step

Sometimes I am in place, my heart aligned with my head,

Strong with dignity and content that hums through young foolish bones,

Others, my soul remembers it’s human form of sin and shame,

Its imperfections and qualities that it does not obtain.

I don’t want to be that person,

Clasped in a corner, glasses, pen scratched in a book,

Instead, I crave to be the beauty, a sprouting cool spring, shy eyes and quiet smile,

Pen poised in perfect harmony.

Sometimes I feel womanly, distracting,

Strong with the knowledge of knowing, captivating like the beauties in books.

Others, my soul sits on the tip of its seat,

And I only begin to think about today,

Cloudy mind on tomorrow’s vast edges,

I am in the sky, above social standards and people that say I am wrong.

Waiting, wondering, what for,

What for, I can only try to comprehend.