by Jessica Kraker
I want to paint all the walls of my room white & start all over.
Like how springtime in New York melts the snow so the Earth can
start again, so life can flourish.
I want to flourish too.
I want to be those shoots of grass that fight to
burst through the packed dirt and reach the sun
and the sun is so far away.
Like the nestlings who peck their way out into a new world,
even though it’s unfamiliar or scary.
They know there’s someplace better than where they’re
coming from.
There must be, right?
I wish I was so sure about that.
Clean slates don’t seem fresh to me
they are overwhelming
and white walls just pierce my eyes with all the things
I could be if only I was more
more ambitious
more confident
more intelligent
I’m not as strong as those plants, as persistent as those birds,
I’m just me.
And a blank canvas won’t change what I am made of.
But tomorrow I will try anyways.
