Yes, I have been rich / It's just no one let me know

Yes, I have been rich / It's just no one let me know

I have not studied

Abroad in Oxford

But I have graduated

At home to the applause

Of my mom, my degree not yet got in the mail

My feet have not 

Skimmed the sand

Of the Sahara at dusk

But they have bruised

And healed on the gravel road

Back home, pacing back and forth 

I have not heard the rush

Of New York or Broadway

But I have heard my friends

Soliloquy to me

The ill-planned symphony

Of my sisters in the back

My radio not yet fixed

I have not felt

The winds of Alaska

But I have felt the breeze 

Play with the sun and the shadows

On my shoulders

I have not gambled on

The Strip in LA

But I have gambled on you

I have stripped for you 

And I have won more than I could've dreamed

I haven't run my feet

Across Persian rugs in Isfahan

But I have run my feet 

Over the thick rug

We thrifted and rolled

Out on our tiny porch

I feel a dent in my finger

Where I have been pressing too hard

Against my thumb as I write

I start to stare at the robin 

Who just landed so cordially

On the drain pipe

I lean back over my notebook

Conscious of how I will have bad posture

When I'm older (I already do)

I crane my neck still

And my hair falls in my eyes

My hands are dry and

How tired I am of looking 

At other peoples things

It gives me a headache

Instead I think I will stretch

My feet out and put them up

I think I will sit in the sun

And not think about my posture

I think instead I will count 

My pennies, my fortune

The sun glaring on my eyelashes

My glass empty beside me

My socked feet stretching

The birds commentating

My notebook filling up

It is always like this

I am tired of finding pretty ways to name them

They are too busy to listen in the first place

I think I will go breathe them in instead

Swallow them whole

Spread generously on my toast

Hang them in my window

And drink them in with my eyes

– olivia gwyn