Bloody Fingers, Broken Mind

W I S H

the universe is a mystery to me.
to who is it not?
i wonder so many things about a lot.
my curiosity peeks some days.
and on other days i simply can't find the motivation to care.

my moods are like a chameleon.
always changing, but always trying to blend in with everything else.
i wish i were a chameleon.

then i could be invisible.
then i could be myself.

my hair is that of a raven.
black in color but silky to the gentle fingers and bristled brush.
i wish i were a raven.

then i could be wild.
then i could be free.

my eyes are those of the ocean.
blue and full of life, but pain and mystery lurk beneath the stormy depths. i wish i were the ocean.

then i could cleanse.
then i could conquer.

my skin is that of the ivory keys on a baby grand. pale and smooth and forever longing for touch.
i wish i were the keys on a piano.

then i could be touched.
then i could be loved.

my heart is that of a horse.
broken in and tamed to the world's cruel little race of life.
i wish i were a horse.

then i could run away.
then i could be strong.

my mind is like the inside of a clock.
always twisting and turning and always having to be tweaked.
i wish i were the inside of a clock.

then i could function properly.
then i could move on with time.

but for all of the things i wish i were,
and i wish the universe was, i realize at the end of the day that i am still me.

and that is okay.