legacies.

I don’t want the comforts of normalcy,
she said,
or the white picket fence
or the sounds of suburbia.
I want chaos
and I want to be my own hero.
I want life to be beautiful irony
and a soft lullaby
that ushers in the calm
before the storm.
And I want open-ended questions
because those who settle
for just one answer
never really live a life
someone will write about
someday.

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