Made

I’d like to say I was made somewhere,

but I don’t know that I’m complete.

A naive version of myself thought this would be a settled point in my life,

but she was deluded in the most darling way,

footsteps receding as she raises her eyes to the stars,

hopeful and hungry.

I have washed up on many beaches,

daughter of many shores,

never sure of which way to wander when the whistling wind calls,

just going wherever the breeze and the waves take me.