I long for that most illusive craving
and again, find only myself.
and suddenly myself is enough.
contemplating impulse over understanding.
hearing what my heart won’t consciously admit.
pondering the depth of who “me” actually is, and
These years define me.
The relationship between self and soul.
The truth that isn’t as pretty, but is infinitely more comforting.
I don’t need sparkles
I light my way with stars.