They say that without water,
There is no life.
And yet I find it here in California,
In the laughter and hope and
The cigarette smoke that billows out from every street corner
Of downtown Los Angeles,
In the skyscrapers and traffic lights and
The sapphire skies of heartwarming summer days.

I drink it in,
All the sights and sounds and feelings of this metropolitan scene
Like a wanderer lost and
In need of some
Soul searching—
In need of finding a lonely insignificant soul within this
Huge sprawling city,
My thoughts interconnected and jumbled and choking
Like the I-210.

This is all I have ever known
But it will not be all I will ever know. I
Am the product of every division,
Of every breakup and divorce and death
That has blessed my life.
Of every moving van and lie and deleted number
That has brought me to where I am now. And I
Am the quotient of every thought multiplied,
Of every long-term dream and desperate last wish and slowly falling tear
That has built me from the concrete up.
Of every lonely forgotten face and late night drive and pathetic wilting corsage
That reminds me that the past should be let go of.

Sixteen years of perfect (in the effort)
And sixteen years of failure (in the result.)
Only the future knows what it holds in store for me
And only I can decide what to make of it.

I am California’s girl
And California is my city.
And here, even plastic bottles on the side of the road
Hold a price for redemption,
Five cents per crushed vessel.
Surely, surely
I hold more worth than that.
Surely, there is value to be found within my trials
And my errors
And my failures
And my futures
And me.


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