Maybe she will

Maybe one morning she’ll realize
there was never anyone standing at the gate,
clipboard in hand,
deciding whether she’d earned the right
to live the life she wanted.

Maybe she’ll stop waiting for permission
to leave,
to begin,
to change her mind,
to want more,
to want less,
to disappoint people,
to be inconvenient,
to choose herself.

Maybe she’ll finally understand:

the door was never locked.