6/30/22
On my desk by my bed
rests a still snow globe.
It's presence is all in my head,
damaging my frontal lobe.
I miss the journeys with my friends
as I choose to lay here alone.
When we reached our own dead ends,
we all supported each other by phone.
And so I have finally realized
that the world I idealized
cannot be finalized
until the version of me I have idolized
escapes from my snow globe, uncrystallized,
enjoying the real world as I fantasized.
The power of this globe of snow
is the only source of joy I know.
And when nobody is around to shake it,
I finally realize the need to break it.
Happiness is something to make,
something to be nurtured and grown.
So I needed a personal break
after I had finally been shown
that snow globes don't shake
on their own.
