I hang out laundry at midnight
and cry into the frozen arms of the full moon
frosted grass licking at my feet
and I wonder, how and when
did I climb into this melancholic basin
that finds me in tears
at the turn of every day
unable to let go of the things
that stop me dreaming
when perhaps dreaming is the problem

I can't have it all


"God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change
Courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference"

If I'd ever heeded those words
I'm not sure I'd be who I am
but I appreciate the sentiment of them

I'm too stubborn to love differently
not courageous enough to live differently
and not wise enough to fix the path ahead
free of yesterday's mistakes

Yet, I rage a war within myself of someone
who simultaneously rebels and conforms
and does neither with much success


I am not extraordinary
and my life
will never live up to my expectations
in the everyday hubbub of sameness
that both fulfils and disappoints
because I can't stop dreaming
of oceans in the desert
wishing I knew how to swim
when the truth is I'm so afraid of drowning
I've never let the tide caress my face


There's a strange pleasure in failure
like an old worn out blanket
it comforts but won't keep you warm
still, I keep stitching up the holes
like they'll make it brand new
and tomorrow's moon
won't hold my tears in it's arms
while I hang out the laundry at midnight

©Indie Adams 2020
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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lepperochan Ahavati NewBeginnings _boybrains Honoria
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