twenty-one

Twenty-one is such a funny age, isn’t it?
It’s poetry and ink-stained fingers
Hopeful eyes and broken dreams.
And yet
Scattered throughout the pages of this chapter
There is a wish
A dream
A captured breath
That says maybe, just maybe
What I’ve wanted all along will come to be.

I’m older and wiser than I was at seventeen.
Stronger and fiercer than ever.
My dreams are clutched tight in both hands
And this time I refuse to let them slip through like water.
This time I will release them into the air
One by one
Watch them sprout wings and fly
Flutter through the wind like dragonflies.
And maybe
Just maybe
They will come back to me
Land on my fingers and tell me stories of faraway lands
And long-lost hopes now forgotten.
They will tell me to wish upon a burning star
And continue to dream the most dangerous dreams.

Because the only dreams worth chasing
Are the ones with the potential to break you.

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