My Life Is Weighed By Scales
For years, when asked my favorite color,
“forest green” would fly out of my mouth
without a second thought. Although the
Northwest is a place I have only dreamt of
visiting, I feel those towering pines beckon me.
This morning, 7:48 AM, as I poured my
monotonous mug of coffee. I began to question
whether I knew myself at all.
The color of my coffee with too much cream,
the color I aim to reach when I bake in the
summer heat, claimed the title of my new
favorite. I realized how often opinions
change and plans change. My life is a
clicking Newton’s cradle, Never-ending and unwavering.
Maybe the goddesses among the stars make a puppet out of me and
take turns yanking on the strings. The constellation marked with
indecision rules over me, as claimed by my birth. When my eyes lock
sight on the stars each night, I assumed it was for their beauty and
vastness. But perhaps I’m just feeling The tug of a string preparing to
propel me again.
Shayna Prace is a senior English major, a coffee addict, and a self-proclaimed Harry Potter geek.