most days

Most days,
I feel like I'm waiting for something.
for a moment when an inspiration will hit me
a muse will appear out of thin air
when I can bend my way of thinking
re route my train of thought

but
most days
feel kind of empty.
like something is missing.
like I'm at the precipice of my life
and I just haven't figured out how to jump yet

most days
i look around like i've lost something
with curious eyes that pry around corners
and into personal lives
scrying for stories of people's pasts
because I already know my own so well
and I like to think that I can collect stories like pearls
and eventually string them all together
to have around as a symbol of all the beauty in this world that I've found

but most days
no one has a good story to tell.
they've forgotten their story entirely
or they're too scared to tell it
or they can't find the proper words to describe it
or they think their story is of no importance

so most days
I just sit back and watch
become an observer in the crowd and let all the pairs of feet wander past me
always hurrying off to an unknown destination
it makes me feel like I should be hurrying too
but then I remember
that I know my destination
and I want to enjoy the journey, too.