What if – Poetry

‘What if I could grow a hand?’, my ten year old self once asked ‘I could then climb the tallest tree. Up, up, I could climb all the way up. Far away from society’.

Hopes, fears, and desires, driven by six letters. Every day and every night my mind explored what my body could not.

‘What if I could turn into a giant eye?’, my fifteen year old self once asked ‘Then I could stare at everyone else just as they stare at me.’

Isolation became a by-product of fear, a fear caused by staring eyes. Yet, my own were the only connection with the world outside my mind.

‘What if I could stop wondering what if’, my 25 year old self once asked, ‘Instead of drowning in imagined worlds, what if I could start living?’

What if my mind does not want to let go of its most faithful companion? What if it does?

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