These Days

I will miss these days 

The days of silent nights

Of untouched skin 

Of To do lists 

That I create and destroy 

I will think fondly

Of the time when only my name 

Was my definition 

I will miss these days 

The quiet loneliness in my own bed 

That can feel at once like 

a sky can feel empty 

Even as the stars 

hold the walls of earth's axis 

It is only that I have so many dreams 

And I didn’t know as a child 

That dreams can be balloons or stones 

That land in your ship

Every “I shall become” 

Suddenly turns to “what I have not”

And the lists ties ropes to your ankles

I will miss these days 

The poetic irony 

For to achieve one dream 

One must wake up from another 

The days of passive living 

The difference of bathing and swimming 

And it will be worth it 

I fear that I shall be preparing for greatness 

Up until my death 

That my obituary will say 

Artist, dreamer and a girl who mourned for the days she still lived

To loathe and languish 

A days that you treasure 

You are forever trapped in 

Wishing and wishing 

Sometime to change 

Sometime the opposite 

 the burning of hope 

And the monsters of disbelief 

 grows and grows and grow

I wanted to be a young mother 

I want for more now but still find I have done less

I would have been a good young mother 

I would have tossed these days 

I would have missed the sleep and the dreaming and the hoping 

I may have even longed for the life I live now

For in the waiting there might be a plan 

And in the silence there may be a movement 

And in time I may wake up and see I have floated away from 

The unmoving stream 

My balloons pulling me through the wind 

When the sound of mountain will evade my ears 

Another day begins 

Another days begins