Wishful Thinking 

I found a nest today. 

I didn’t know what would come out.

I didn’t know who I would be meeting. 

I heard that everyone finds a nest one day, full of eggs. 

They find someone to fly with. 

They know what they will get sometimes, sometimes they don’t. 

I mean, they find something that makes them happy 

Even if it is only for a little while. 

I had found another nest once.

Snakes crawled out of its eggs.

I didn’t know that it was possible

And I didn’t believe it until I got bitten

And the venom almost killed me. 

I barely had the strength to pull myself towards the year of therapy I completed this month. 

But I survived. I am alive. Therapy saved me. 

And I thought I’d get a nest again. 

I thought I should have someone to fly with too, one day. 

I mean, why not? 

I thought I would find a nest again. 

That’s what most people get, a home inside others. 
Sometimes, if they’re lucky, they get a home inside themselves too. 

I guess I got lucky in one way. 

The nest I found was my own. 

But what is it like to know the warmth given to me by someone else?

What is it like to feel at home in someone’s kind and loving heart? 

What does someone else lighting a fire within me look like?

Something deep inside me tell me that I will never know. 

Somewhere deep inside me, something shattered. 


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