. On Gypsies .

The Brother did a DNA test kit and it says that he’s part gypsy.

And if he’s part gypsy, 
then I guess that means that I am

too.

And I guess that’s why I don’t like to be shackled to things like

rings.

And I guess that’s why things feel heavy on my chest

like
time
and
walls
and
Thursdays.

And I guess that’s why I dance when I cook
and in my car
and in my classroom
and in my shower.

And I guess that’s why when the grass starts to turn green
and when the flowers start to bloom
and when the air feels like maybe spring is finally here - 

I guess that’s why I have the urge - 

deep down in my belly, 
my heart beating to the rhythm of a clock that I can’t see - 

I guess that’s why I get the urge to move. 

To leave
To pack up my load
To go.
And to not come back.

And I guess that says something about me - ingrained not only in my heart, not in my soul, but on some kind of scientific, cellular level. 

On some kind of coincidental ancestral level - 

I was born a

wanderer. 

A nomad.

I guess I was born with some kind of chaotic liberty.
Some kind of authentic belonging to the middle of 

everything

wild.

And I guess
And I guess
And I guess

I knew it.

All along.

​xoxo, B.