I pull my drapes closed in the evening.
At night I ponder at what is out there in this wilderness.
I dreamt of a pack of wolves right outside, they lunged at me when I dared to peak.
My friend told me not to fear them, but to run with them.
I look at my tarot card I pulled for the day: a reverse knight of cups.
It told me that I am sulky, moody and jealous.
The readings are always right.
But acknowledging the fact doesn’t change much.
I sit with my grief, the year has been difficult.
‘It will get better,’ they say.
Well when? Because I’ve been waiting and giving, giving, giving and still nothing.
I pray, meditate, workout, ask—no beg, for change.
My heart churn’s when I look at you, so happy, successful and doubt you ever think of me.
But now I am glad you are succeeding, proud that you’ve gained more success than you ever would have in Texas.
You didn’t even remember me in high school,
Now I doubt I even cross your mind now.
All the precious moments that meant so much to me, what did they ever mean to you?