Stories

When I was little

I read and read

until

I wondered,

What am I looking for?

I realized

all that I wanted

was

to read my own.

Yesterday,

today,

last year,

Now it all seems 

like a story I read,

like a story read to me,

a fiction. 

And dreams?

They seem all

too real,

reality too distant.

And yet

I will not lose

all control,

I will not weep for what could be,

what should be,

I will write

my own story,

where I am the hero.