I cannot live here.
Either my heart is in the past
or my mind is set on the future.
Even my body shakes and jitters
in between dimensions.
Here is where the happiness lies,
but happiness is not tangible.
So I keep racing towards the next best thing
I can pick up and fill me.
But nothing fills me,
and there is an incinerator
where my stomach should be.
And each newfound passion I race towards
starts off as a beautiful, warm fire
that quickly turns to ash.
Ashes of former loves,
jobs of the resigned,
empty homes with no occupants.
Here lies the soot of all my dreams,
burnt to a crisp before they were achieved.
Gabrielle Buckner is a tiny mountain mama and avid writer based out of Lakewood, Colorado. When she is not a nice pup, Buckner spends her free time reading, traveling, and trying to see over all the tall folks at concerts.