Waiting

I shed the things of my past

like baggage left

at a former house.

I see the changes

over time

like an evolution

of myself.

I feel the soft skin beneath

and the blood rushes.

Counting the stars

while wishing

these dreams

could ever be true.

I lay in bed wondering,

is this all there will ever be?

I keep hope

despite the odds.

Is this real living

or am I a captive of my dreams?

A dream is worth the waiting.

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