Sometimes that stubborn ache,
That 'never enough' hole in your middle
In the very center of you-
Never quite dissolves
Even when you find yourself blindingly, maddeningly surprisingly joyful
at the way things seem to be unfolding unexpectedly right before your eyes.
And maybe that can be a good thing, the way the emptiness claws at your heart and tugs
Maybe it pushes and prods you to be beyond.
Beyond what you thought you could be or could do or deserved to have
Beyond regular. Beyond ordinary. Beyond beige.
Maybe it’s the contented happy people that grow up mediocre, and those of us that had that blood-metallic taste of loss in our mouths earlier than we thought we could, that go on to great passions.
Because we demand it of ourselves.
Maybe we finally learned to.
requires a little extra effort