I envy the cicada
\nthat can shed its skin,
\nbecome new and start over.
\nI want to shed the scars and wounds
\nof my life.
\nThe make-believe of ruined faiths.
\nThe accumulation of opinion,
\ndislikes,
\nsalted tastes,
\nso nothing is new anymore,
\nor fragrant,
\nor delicate with new cloth,
\nwords that wrap around the heart.<\/p>\n
To pull out the little daggers
\nthat killed romance, love, imagination.
\nI want idealism back.
\nI want to see inside the topaz of eyes,
\nwinter gardens,
\ngifts left unsigned on a table,
\nthe purity of tomorrow,
\na bouquet of seaweed
\ndancing in my hands,
\na name that fits me now,
\nthe other,
\nin a locket tossed in a grave.<\/p>\n
I want to walk down an avenue of trees,
\nkeeping company with their arms.
\nSee the faces of beloved strangers
\nwho I have always known,
\nand say,
\nI have a new heart,
\nI believe in infinite tenderness,
\nthe youth of forever.
\nI am a kid.
\nWhat I am and will always be.
\nRomance my darlings.
\nReady for romance.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I envy the cicada that can shed its skin, become new and start over. I want to shed the scars and wounds of my life.…<\/p>\n