Their is no free freedom


Always questioning my own motives,

and never quite sure if I have my best interest

in mind,

I wonder if waiting through the craving for transition

will settle me, only time will tell.

I sabotage possibilities

and their natural state of uncertainty.

(I have a secret addiction to fresh gazes and constant change)

People make promises about their futures

like professional palm readers or

a holy army marching through life

husband, child, wife.

I know girls who knew they wanted to be mamas

as soon as they could conceive of the idea

and predestined papas

with one hand on their training wheels

and the other on a car seat…

I’ve made plenty of pacts with past lovers

that have blown away behind me

maybe still written somewhere.

It’s hard to take words seriously,

especially when there are so many.

Fear is beside me all the time,

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