Ain’t It Fun

Ain’t it fun, living in the real world – being all alone?
No, not really, the real world is:
wake up, get up, drive, work, worry, don’t cry, drive, sleep, repeat.
Where do I want to live, then? I’m not sure, but I’ve never felt at home. I think my heart is in little pieces smashed where the wind scattered them to corners of the world I have yet to see, that only my thoughts and hopes and fears have touched.
Maybe like some cruel video game I need to go to these places, pick up the little shards beneath my feet, wriggle them beneath my toes like sand under the sun. Feel the breeze of a new place on my skin and through my soul and sigh once I’ve breathed them all back in. Maybe then I will be complete. With every breath I inhale, I realize I don’t know what else it will take.
I think it might take love, but I have to be certain
I can love myself before someone can love me again.
And maybe then they’ll find me,
broken, carried across the wind,
and bring me home.

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11 thoughts on “Ain’t It Fun

  1. A good start on a great poem, but i would have liked a better story or an ending with a twist. Also consider repetition as a poetical device. “Ain’t it fun” has resonance and repetition makes the point – ain’t it fun to be alive.

  2. life… ain’t it fun… heck yes… the questions, the wrestling, the confusion, the beauty… all combined…we discover our own voice and rhythm through it all… good blog this..

  3. This one speaks to me. I often like to say that when you start loving yourself, all of you, the good and the bad, that is when you are able to love everyone else. That is what love is – it needs to have a sturdy ground to start on – You.
    The poem is good. And I like giving a final thought to make you wonder: Show, don’t tell.
    That is all. Wish you all the best. Cheers!

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