I must live with myself
Constantly
Much of my time is spent in movement
Traveling
Couch surfing
An old cowboy
It’s a dangerous life
Trusting no one yet anyone that lends a helping hand
Rewriting the story
I used to love Tinkerbell
Let me create
Upcycle
Now I travel
Mimicking life in the escape
We all have our comfort
I have control over my pack
I do not need help carrying anything
I can lay my head anywhere
Knowing I can be thousands of miles away in the evening
I remember packing my bags
All of my things
My red bag hiding underneath the bottom bunk
Ready for my escape
There once was something to run from
Now I run for control
A sense of ownership over myself
Waves of guilt erode my confidence
But I’m not a rock
Maybe I am not strong
But buoyant.