We keep sanding the edges of life,
like it’s a piece of furniture
that needs to be perfect
before anyone can sit in it.
But while we polish and measure,
the sun sets.
The music ends
The moment walks out the door
Maybe life was never meant
to be flawless.
Maybe it was meant
to be lived.
So stop editing the story
mid-sentence.
Kiss the stranger.
Take the trip.
Say the thing.
Give in to the fantasy.
Because the most
haunting ghost
is the one that whispers
I wish I would have...