Gold Mine

Gold Mine

By Hannah Miles

I’m not here to babysit, 

to babysit my life.

To wait and watch on over it, 

as the ticking clock goes by.

My days are not a safety-net

to shield me from past hurt.

I don’t exist to look pristine,

I’m here to gold-mine- in the dirt.

I want to move & groove and leap,

Not linger; static, still.

I want to feel rain on my skin,

I want to drink my fill.

I know it’s going to wound me,

to embrace our damaged world. 

But surely souls set fiercely free

Hurt less, than ones kept furled.