Pocketful of Poetry

Fortune Cookie

The first time I had held a fortune cookie in my hands, I accidentally crushed it. I consumed the broken pieces, in hopes that if I ate all the crumbs, the fortune inside would still come true. I had finished the cookie before the realization dawns on me that there was no fortune inside, no paper to warn me of what was to come years later. But ever since that moment, I became obsessed with them. I believed in them like I believed the kindness of strangers, like I believed in the miracles performed by people passing by, like I believed in everything. But I wish there was a fortune cookie that would warn me of you. You slipped past my guards, and suddenly, you became a necessity in my present. Quicker than anything I had ever known, you spun me on my feet and before I could even stand, you led me into a dance of mishap and storms and a state of grace. You knew I loved to run, yet you dragged me into this unfamiliar dance. I desperately tried to keep up with you, and before I knew it, we were in sync. I knew you like the back of my hand, maybe even better, and even though there was constant rain, you held me close so I wouldn't get cold. You took the frostbite as we danced our way to the end of our love. The lightning were the spotlights on our stage, the thunder, the offbeat rhythm that kept us on our toes, and the endless rain, which we eventually grew to learn to depend on even more than each other. Despite the storms, I was happy, and so were you. But too soon, there were blisters on our feet, we kept falling, bruising our hearts with such terrible ache, we didn't know what to do. We knew we had to let go, but I sure as hell wasn't ready, and neither were you. But you let go of me anyways to make sure that I would still be able to pursue my dreams, and just as quickly as you had came, you leapt off my stage and into my past, not knowing that you were one of my dreams and that I chased you with gashes on my feet, cuts on my hands from when I pushed myself back up from when I fell onto the jagged ground, and a bleeding heart. I still run to you now, even though I know it is no longer possible, and now, I am trapped in both your past and mine, and no fortune cookie can guide me back now.

(A/N): Welcome aboard, everyone. I hope you enjoyed this part. This was the second spoken word poem I had ever written, and I'm just glad that I have this opportunity to share it. I hope you enjoy this rest of this adventure!

Bon voyage!