All I Really Want

All I really want is
Assurance-
another voice to validate that it’s alright.

All I really want is
Dinner regularly-
not peanut butter paired with a podcast.

All I really want is
A soapbox-
a place to preach how clean the pit got me.

All I really want is
Lip service-
a mouth to help me outweigh the cons.

All I really want is
Some ease, man-
comfort that comes in the deepest form.

All I really want is
A smooth transition-
sliding into home without a road rash.

All I really want is
A backseat-
Jesus at the wheel while I talk over radio static.

All I really want is
A perfect complexion-
or at least whiter teeth to outshine the redness.

All I really want is
A double shot-
espresso or tequila, it doesn’t really matter.

All I really want is
Omnipotence-
to know the answers to the questions I theoretically wouldn’t need to ask.

All I really want is
A mindless job-
some way to use my hands as the tools they are.

All I really want is
Selective amnesia-
to casually ignore humiliation like it’s at a mall kiosk working on commission.

All I really want is
To make out-
like bandits with duffel bags full of chapstick and spare change to get by on.

All I really want is
Commitment-
promises I don’t have to ask out loud.

All I really want is
An inside joke-
some spice for the dusty language crowding the ignition.

All I really want is
A dance party-
all my favorite songs and everyone I love and you, if I’m being honest.