by Nikki Anne Schmutz

The words
“I wish”
cross my mind
before I remember,
I stopped wishing
years ago.

The young girl inside
decided against
frivolous sentiments.
She was never
afforded them anyway.

Life was about
living, surviving, being,
finding the puzzle pieces
lost in the fray.

I search
as the pinwheels
of memory spin
in the wind.
Metallic flashes
of the past
glint against
the walls
inside my eyes.

Retinal memories
reflect on the cortex
of my life –
snapshots of color
against backgrounds
of gray
waiting in the sidelines.

I watch in
My life is an
ever-spinning wheel,
constantly cycling.
I wait for a lazy moment
that never comes.

I wish
for quiet moments
spent with a soul
who sees me
for who I am.


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