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