It’s waiting for you.
On the back burner for so long
you’ve forgotten about it completely.

It’s sitting at the table in a restaurant.
Waiting patiently for you to leave that job
you don’t even like
and make it to dinner.

Late.

It’s underneath a stack of half-finished books
and another mostly empty journal.
Corners of the pages folded,
marking all those inspiring quotes
about places to go and things you’ll do
someday.

It’s somewhere in the back of your fridge.
Tucked between a jar of pickles
and boxes from that take-out place you don’t even like,
but walk by on your way home.

It’s another collection of sentences that start
with words like “when the time is right” and “someday” and “after I…”.

You can always find another reason
you can’t find the time
or do it right now.
You are never wanting for extended timelines.
Two-year plans that are pushed out to five, then ten.

An entire life condensed down to
all the things you said you’d do,
but didn’t.