Amnesia would be welcome,
To come over me,
To recreate me,
To bliss me.
If I could ride away from
Time and schedules,
Expectations and demands,
Requests and guilt,
Money and trappings,
Clothing and coverups,
Yesterday and the stories,
There would be truth.
Perfection is truth.
I want to swallow morning sun,
Bask in river waters,
Roll upon two-wheeled asphalt trails,
Touch a buffalo on his nose and
Pray at his the hooves of his awesomeness,
Watch a tornado thunder by and
Lie under Jupiter with an open heart.
My soul soars every moment,
If I choose a limitlessness life,
Each second without a second hand,
No appointment to keep,
No person awaiting my arrival.
I am able to walk into truth.
I see her eyes beckoning me enter.
Amnesia would be freedom.
To wander empty prairies,
Roam among the buffalo,
Clothed in daisies,
Warmth from the high sun,
Darkening my shoulder skin.
No etiquette nor rules,
No burdens nor chores,
But to live now;
To breathe.
Let me forget how I came,
How I have become, whom I have become.
Can I not just become again?
Amnesia, pour across my dry path,
Renewing my spirit.
Grateful for the days of life I've walked,
In this name I've grown into
This name I've become.
Oh, but to embrace the freedom of amnesia,
To drop the clock,
And guilt
And expectations.
Oh, to be new again.
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