What Was I Made For?

I always dreamed that one day I would be an astronaut, no,
pilot, no, actress, wait no... None of these could possibly
become reality when the paths of our generations before us were
based purely on what you were made for. What was I made for? The 
tight knit question we all circle around like birds in a parking
lot looking for a half-eaten bagel. I wonder to myself if things
could have been different, what would I change? The most honest
answer, nothing. Nothing could be different yet nothing stays
the same. We take experiences like a heart locket we wear around
our necks and tattoos to show where we have been before.
Beautiful, articulate designs go up and around your body
explaining the painful regrets we hold onto when we do not know
when to let go. Letting go of my passion felt as if I gouged out
my mind and scrambled it to make a plate for breakfast. My heart
broke for the person I could have been if I had only seen
through the struggles as a sign of growth instead of
uncertainty. If only my heart could sprinkle shimmers of hope
into my mind so I could play the fiddle of my desires and go for
my dream. However, this poem is not to be read out of negativity
but a branch for a tree I have planted in myself to reignite the
flame I thought was only allowed to have in my dreams. The dream
this whole time was not about being an actress, an astronaut, or
a pilot. It was to be surrounded by everlasting support, love
that would make armies fall to their knees, and people who make
sunshine without even being outside. To answer my own question,
“What was I made for?” The most honest answer, something.

--Brianna F., Adult