the unknown

I exist in time suspended

living as if playing a role—

starring in someone else’s life.

My own on hold, waiting.

Waiting for me, on me.

Wanting an altered reality—somehow unattainable, out of reach.

Waiting and wanting.

I want somehow to speed ahead, to look back at what I know has happened—my life, lived.

a little note

I wrote this poem Dec. 30, 2004 and titled it, May 19, 2005.

As I look back at my writing, it seems I do this—write a poem, title it a year later.

I wonder what this is?

I was 29, eight years into my relationship, wanting to be married to a man who seemed uninterested in that. Wanting to know how my career would unfold. Feeling rudderless, I think, and lacking control.

Or is that simply the feeling of your twenties—as you search out where you hope to land.