My favorite days
were those that couldn’t restrain me—
those days I went a little wild
with frustration or love
and blurted out the truth,
which is always a little bit awkward
is the most valued attribute
of a female who isn’t outwardly beautiful.
It’s those days that carry me
through the mundane landscape
of my meek and orderly existence.
I prefer the everyday pleasantries
that float into me and away from me
like colorful sailboats on a placid afternoon
but there’s nothing more satisfying
than watching the storm move toward you—
seeing the water darken and swell
in a fit of exasperation.
Sometimes this goes on for hours—
and it seems not even the ocean
can contain it.