Becca's Place

Being an Adult

I whisper longingly of joining the circus,
transforming myself into a clown, or a high wire artist.
I dream of running away-
from our tidy condo where never, never echoes in the shadows.
I need to start over
like pulling clean warm laundry from the dryer.
Here is only sighs and promises.
Now is only collectors and debts,
dirty dishes and bills.
I miss running through the sprinkler and laughing as the water hit my skin.

I hate adulthood
dealing with it
and making something of your life

Wish there really was a net under this high wire act