Versions

It always feels like there’s a piece missing

One friend reminds me of my best friend in college

Masking a dark and painful complexity under her brilliance

And another of my father taking us on a road trip through the southwest

Hiding his past under the fun of discovery and adventure

I was multitudes

I was searching

For a grandmother I never knew

A missing piece

A home i never found

An appetite I can’t satiate

A profound movement towards transformation

Always changing and transforming

In one of these versions of myself maybe I’ll find the truth

Both friends remind me of both my parents

I take a deep breath

Ask the blue sky

What does it want to show me?

You think I’m a wanderer

A vagabond with no home

But the truth is I’m always home

I stayed on the bench overlooking the city

Until I knew the answer

Until I understood a higher love

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