cosmic storage

Are we the blank slates
we want ourselves to be?

Or do we carry with us the
grievances, lessons, and
loves of our stellar past?

Every corner I turn, a CVS,
Wal-Mart, McDonalds
springs into my vision,
and I wonder if my life is
unique.

Each chain erupts to
remind me that a million
others live the life I do,
pass the things I do, reflect
the same daily routine the
way I do.

So I balk, I look away, I
refuse to enter.
My day, my minute,
my second wants
to be unique. Someday
it will add to the cosmic
storage of my soul,
to carry me through the
ages. This, I realized today,
fuels so many of my wants
and needs.

And so I push against the world.

marya oakes arden