It was one of those longing nights
(where you'd pretend to be dazed)
watching the flickering advertisements
comprising 80% of some five year old re-run.
People would come into the room,
and ask you what you were watching,
but you'd just grunt out some ill-inspired explanation
(that sounded more like it was coming
from your nose than your mouth).
The truth was you weren't paying attention at all.
It was that kind of night for me.
I sat there thinking too hard for my own good--
bumper cars were riding off the flat bed
and shorting out, while the rest
wouldn't stop slamming into each other
(even after the attendant had showed up to close the ride).
My mind was a child's attempt at a car crash,
"but mommy, I wanna keep playing!"
"I'm sorry dear, but we have to go..."
and kick and scream all the way home
because you wanted control;
because you didn't feel like you had any.
I had some serious decisions to make:
would I leave to shape a world for myself,
or stick like chewed gum
to the bottom of a tiny desk,
and listen to the preachings of a textbook.
Would I go with the girl I equated to nature--
bold and beautiful and never failing to surprise
when the weatherman would spread his rumors.
Would I find a passion I could be dedicated to?
Would I be proud or hate myself?
Would I? Could I? I really didn't know,
but I'm going to find out,
and I turned off the television set...