Cream-Colored Ponies

Living my childhood fairy tale, yet wanting to live my own adult fairy tale

Cream-Colored Ponies
An adult, living my childhood fairy tale.
But when will I become the adult
living my own fairy tale?

I read a post that said:
“Instead of being 36 and wishing you could go back
to your 20-year-old self,
imagine you’re 90,
returning to your 36-year-old self.”

What would I do then?
What would I do now?

The truth is—
I don’t know what to do.
So I pray.

I want to write my book.
I want to find my love.
To have our child,
and make incredible art—
but how?

I walk in circles,
gathering fragments.
A pot of golden curry. A sentence.
A glimmer of belief
that I might already be her.

Some days, I believe it.
Some days, I can’t feel a thing.

I stare at the sky and whisper,
Please show me.
Please guide me.
Please let this yearning mean something.