one day, i'll be alive.
the half-finished cups of peppermint tea
will no longer sit neglected on my desk.
i'll see all the sights that i need to see
and admit to myself that they are picturesque.
one day, it will hurt less
when the towering oaks let go of their leaves
or when the summer heat suffocates the buds of may
or snow angels fly away with the sigh of a breeze
or the spring drags in her showers, day after day.
one day, i will be free
from the confines of my ricocheting mind.
i will rest under a sycamore tree, birds singing to the skies.
the soft and lovely breeze will kiss me, and it will be kind.
no longer will my head be filled with these ruthless lies.
one day, i will wake up
in the morning and find myself in the mirror.
but today, i am here as an observant sojourner.
these moments, these little joys are all the more dearer.
existence is not my oath, and i am not a mourner.
Riley-Grace Huggins is an English literature student at Texas Woman’s University. Her work has been published in Ricepaper Magazine. She lives in Denton, Texas. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @rgahugg.