Day One

That seventeen-year-old part of myself

(the part the died seventeen years ago, or so I believed)

is giggling-

I'm signing away

the artistic

part of myself

that was living like a barbarian,

boundless

until I signed the dotted line.

She's cracking up

whispering

"maybe now you'll marry a doctor!"

I guess I really can't walk away,

until I start moving.