POEMS FROM AN IDLE MIND

I want a Birkin bag.

I want to look at nature from those picture perfect pools in exotic places like Santorini, sipping white wine, basking only in the present. Deliberately choosing to forget the bittersweet misery of the past and the compulsively persistent beckoning of the future.

 

 I want to get myself a motorcycle and ride it on the shoulder, get on a ferris wheel with nothing but a reformed openness for adventure, adrenaline on high from being on the brink. Hike in the woods with my closest friends, build campfires at night and dance around it, all of us chanting the same prayer with different tongues

 

I want to take a trip to nowhere.window seats on every flight because somehow we feel less claustrophobic when the clouds are in clear view, Because, in the physical, this is as close as i can get to my childish perception of heaven.

 

( isn’t it ironic? invention taking us to paradise 

L                     O                       L

nobody prepared us for that).

 

I want to look in the mirror and be content with the intense brown eyes that stare back at me I want comfort in my skin, to make peace with each scar, speak in whatever language they understand and tell them stories about butterflies.

 

I want everyday to be my happy-go-lucky day not give a single fuck about what might go wrong because reality happens fast. I'd hate to miss the good part. Now, that would be a solid regret.

 

I want freedom. 

I want to be young, wild and reckless

but mostly, free.