I had a map when I was young

Nothing special but

I swore it held my fate in

its borders and legends

Tales of what’s to come

So I clenched my fist around it

for if it was never lost,

neither could I be

 

One day, I found that one map

couldn’t guide me to

every destination

I longed to reach

 

So I procured another

and another

and another

 

until I housed a cartographer's library

in orderly fashion

on my back

I could unlatch and reach inside my albatross

into a sea of destiny

At last, I could always know

where I would

end up

 

All is well that is charted well…

 

Until I came to the

realization

that I never learned how to swim

 

One day, I grasped at the pages that

once

were my comfort

and found myself overtaken,

my hands scored by paper cuts

and new crimson landmarks appearing

on the surface of the ocean

I slipped below the chronicles of destiny

as I could no longer contend with

the weight of knowledge

As I sank into oblivion

I couldn’t help but think that

 

Maybe I was better off lost…