The want to be, could be,
should be
is too hard to be
and easier left for
another day
that’s faraway,
unsaid.

There is no day
now, no deadlines
or rules,
no place to be
but the blind insides
of space, where there should
be something more
I keep waiting
for, something to
take its place.

Instead we find the
lost, left over things
once familiar but now
forgotten,
like remnants of a life
that was easier
lived somewhere else
some other day,
faraway.

Photo by Loren Chasse, Washington coast

Categories: writing

Tags: dream symbolism, expats, fear and writing, mindfulness poetry, poem, poetry, procrastination, travel, Washington coast, writing, writing process