Reading about female heroines 

From a very young age, 

It was always beautiful women with long hair 

Piercing eyes, their stance with confidence 

Their hearts burning with fire and passion 

It’s inspiring. 

You wonder, “When does that part of my life come in?”

When will I bloom as a pink peony does 

Or that passion for finding purpose 

My purpose. 

They fight these huge monsters 

Mine had come to haunt me and eat at my self-worth 

The heroes find the light in their situation 

And the universe seems to be on their side. 

People gawk and cry at their braveness 

While I do too, but in the comfort of my bed 

 wishing  I was them.

Jealousy.

Not jealous of who they are 

jealous that they found who they were. 

That they had something to fight for 

They had something to die for 

When has anything moved me 

It was like a sail without any wind. 

A summer day without the sun. 

Do I have to do more good deeds?

Or am I doing too much? 

When will the life I have in my room,

Finally, flourish out into the green of the outside

I am afraid, I think. 

To touch the soft leaves of trees 

To find a goal  

To finish. 

Reading about the female heroines 

Who knows who they are, 

Oh, how I wish I knew. 

Tomorrow,

Or the next day, 

Or the next chapter.