By Ava Thompson

She’s been waiting
Long past her expiration.
She sits on the doorstep of success
And waits for it to let her in.

She’s outgrown the quiet world
Of compromise.
Her voice is itching to run free.
Her feet follow after.

Her wanderlust will no longer sit
patiently.
Her heart breaks.
Her head spins.
And her gears start to turn.

Her hands quiver under lights
Her heart flutters over thought.
She turns the page
And breathes

For the first time
In years.
And with one word,

She comes to life.

She sits on the doorstep of success.
Her heart breaks.
Her head spins.
And the city takes her in.