to split yourself in two.
the slow and steady process of growing up,
here are the halves
do what you will with them.
one woman wants to be just that,
a woman with things to show for working hard.
need they be simple, yes...
but items nevertheless.
say, maybe a house of her own,
a decent dependable car,
clothes that don't all look the same
and maybe a few extra dollars to walk around in her pocket.
the other woman wants adventure,
small fame even (but why?)
stories to tell her grandchildren,
memories to write about,
something to be proud of.
to follow your dreams is one big fucking task.
it almost seems like a chore or a job sometimes.
doing what you love always becomes what you are known for,
and in doing that
heavy expectations are set.
you are no longer the girl walking down the street,
you are the girl who sings walking down the street.
no longer just the awkward lesbian who lives next door to you,
you are the awkward lesbian neighbor who in is leaving for 2 months
to go sing in Spain.
never get called just by your first name either.
oh, but who are you to complain?
i mean, isin't this what you wanted?
(and honestly, this is small time scale right now)