My Speech to the Genie

I wish that I were happy being me.

That my eyes would sparkle in the mirror. 

That I wouldn’t hold back the most raw version of myself.

I wish so deeply that I would stop comparing. 

That the yearning to be like those who have what I don’t would cease.

That the days wouldn’t seem so wasteful.

I wish that there were more pieces of paper to burn.

That the well wasn’t so dry and the rain so infrequent.

That the thirsty fish would no longer swim.

I wish for the day when I find myself and walk with her.

That loneliness would cease when I become a lone wolf.

That I would howl to the moon and dance under the stars.

I wish for the night when I find another lone wolf to howl with. 

That he would hear my cries and bound toward me with fierceness.

That I would be in a sweet, soft, meadow of his love and affection until I die.

I wish for vibrancy and music to fill up my empty spaces.

That my face would turn from gray to a bed of rose like lips and angelic eyes.

That my voice would emanate over crowds and move them to tears.

Won’t you hear my wishes Genie? 

Or am I to fulfill them all myself?