i want
and that’s okay.
to behave
to learn
to wash
they teach, never to want.
i remember
a girl running in the park
only paper taped to a stick,
but her smile, something like;
a poor man winning the lottery
a musicians first time on stage
winning an academy award, while remembering your time jumping from couch to couch, eating scraps and wearing your sister’s husbands four year old shirt with a hole in the right shoulder – wearing your graduation suit, your parents last gift to you, two sizes too big, to every audition, to every job interview, to every date.
her smile, like nothing in this world, could make her happier- i want
that
Saint's Muse 