As if a cloud changing its shape with the swirling wind, my mind—is always changing.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No.
…

Is it truly impossible to stay on one page for more than two days?
Is it?
Am I just a confused individual with an odd mind?
Am I the only one experiencing this possibly inhuman problem?

I like this boy.
No I don’t.
I like this boy.
Wait—No I don’t.

Constantly changing;
Mind speeding through a year’s worth of time in two days;
Watching, Listening, Wondering,
Possibilities?
Not yet.

I only want the one who I am meant to be with.
I only want to be happy with who I’m with.
I only want to feel as though I could spend forever with this person.
I only want to follow through when I feel possibilities.

Am I rushing into things?
Should I take it slow?
Should I stay on the single road with hopes it will soon work out?
Should I stay longing for my missing piece to protect the feelings of others?

In my cloud of a mind I am lost.
Changing shape?
Maybe not…
Maybe—growing an eye.

Maybe its not that I can’t keep one shape.
Maybe the shapes I choose don’t fit my missing piece.
Maybe my intricate missing piece has not yet found a shape with a close enough match.
Maybe I should examine my next shape a bit more before officially trying it out.

Perhaps my mind is not a cloud after all.
Maybe my problem is:
I know what I want and nobody yet has given it to me.
I’m stubborn.
I’m stubborn and I’m allowed to be.
I should be.
I don’t want to publish a mistake with divorce.
I want to publish my fitted shape with success in unceasing devotion and completion.

There’s still plenty of time.
So why do I long for completion so badly?
Why can’t I find that intricate match?

Still I am seeing,
Still I am hearing,
Still I am learning;
Still I am waiting.

Enough with the rumors.
Enough with the drama.
Don’t hate.
Admire.

While you sit still with the wrong answer,
I am moving on.
While you waste time,
I’m speeding ahead.

True—that doesn’t make you wrong,
But it doesn’t make me wrong either,
Just different.

*If we were not different, we would have the same shapes and sizes and there would never be a search; never a journey to loyal completion—nothing to complete for nothing to fill, no change in life, nothing to strengthen you from what you are now, no point in pairs; no point in finding your missing piece for there is nothing to find when nothing is missing. To some that would be a Utopia. To me, where’s life’s journey in a Utopia?

No longer confused as to why I move so fast, I can see my goal.
I know why I move on and I must continue.
I long so badly for my missing shape,
And I will find it.

Despite my “slut-iness”
Despite my “hoe-ish” ways
Despite my “wrong” ways
Despite my “dreadful” changing feelings
Despite all of “my qualities” that have been handed to me,
I will find completion—I will meet my goal.

The wind will continue to swirl my cloud, but I see now how this is to my benefit. Perhaps you should try on some stubbornness and stop settling for now—wasting time.
Maybe if you could step into my feelings and longings, step into my shoes, you would see.

{I am strong.
I am cautious.
I am stubborn.
I am devoted.
I am speeding.
I—am not wrong.
Stop accusing.}