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?