Carmel Valley Road.
The truth is I can’t
believe it yet. I still don’t know what happened.
I think I was scared that something inside of me realized
I have lived my life stuck
in a paradox, surrounded by safe, charted land.
I was far too stubborn to admit defeat but far too terrified
to remain in such a stagnant state.
So I wandered and now I wonder if this
is the way I’m supposed to be,
free and unattached. Or if I should struggle back
and work for what I called home.
I don’t know. But what stirs inside me most
and keeps my fears far too close is thinking
that I will never find comfort
again. If anyone will ever know who I am. If anyone will speak
my unspoken tongue.
I didn’t leave.
I didn’t run.
I was spinning around the compass we’d created with our words and,
mind lost and vision blurred, I fell off
the map. But the truth is
I still don’t believe
I can’t find my way back.
It was always my intention
to get back to the center.
Still moving along so small and young,
this world has taught me some awfully wonderful things
in two strange months.
