I wish my spirit could transform

into anything, lest a raging storm.

a bird,

a bear,

a tree,

vibrant tulips,

or maybe a daisy

even the air-the wind

that whispers into ears,

and plays wind chimes

I wish to soar high,

to taste the sky

or to be a fish, without a care

anything but

this silly girl of seventeen

wasting away, withering,

emotions like the weather these days,

never knowing which way it’ll sway

I wish to be a river

flowing gradually into something greater,

instead of a pond-

ideas and potential

sinking to the bottom.

I wish to be something invulnerable.