What I Want

I thought I knew what I wanted.

Little yellow house by the seaside.

Happy sunshine

Quiet as a library

Cuddled under the blankets

Life.

I thought I knew what I wanted again.

Library, Sunday afternoons

Curled up on the couch

Wearing your cardigans

Sharing your bed

Life.

I thought I knew what I wanted once more.

Life on the road

Your hand in mine as I stand before the mic

Spitting out words through my puppet mouth

That you somehow sent to mine

Life.

But I know now

That’s not what I want.

None of those are the path that I want to walk down.

I want my own drum.

I want a dance all my own.

I want a book full of words

Spelled with my own blood

And not in the shape of your face.

I want a sommersault through the sky

Flying absolutely high

With no parachute guy

To catch me.

I am not saying some man won’t walk along this path with me.

I hope

I pray

For that someday.

But I know

I know that this man

This man who’ll hold my hand

Won’t dictate the life I lead.

So I know the path I want

Not the man I need.

But I am headed down somewhere

Somewhere only I can see.