I want to be who I was.
I don’t want it to be some flash in a pan.
I feel myself settling back down to the rhythm of the mundane
And I can hear my dreams escaping out the back door.
I’m spending my nights curled up in bed
Rather than curled around a glass of something spitting words out on a page
And it scares me.
It scares me that I’ll become someone I never wanted to be.
Some dream weaver.
Some has been.
Some person living their life referring back to their moment in the limelight.
I don’t want to be that person.
I want to be the person who walked out of the limelight holding her torch
Headed for the east and not stopping for anyone or anything along the way.
But then I stumbled.
I stumbled and in the recuperation process I lost the muscle
The muscle that pumped that dream blood through my veins.
And I can feel the harness wearing where it rubs against my neck
And I’m worried I’ll get used to this.
I’ll get comfortable with this.
And I won’t become who I know I am.