A poem, by me
I am a wandering, wondering, work in progress
Disheveled in my active wear, lounging with purpose
Books to the left and right and me, piling in a fortress of fictional friends as armor
The list in my head gets longer, still I cling to my contemporary contemporaries
Dishes amass, laundry piles, days pass, still I hold my strong female protagonist to my chest
Wandering wearily through worlds, finding myself