big and will be bad wolf

I wanted something better. I wanted so many things I couldn’t say aloud. So I fell into the space between my body & the ground — a longing named gravity. A desire born impossibly hungry. God, how nothing ever satisfies, except my heart, with its lips around your name. It’s the same story over & over. My body hunting-field. My body slaughterhouse. I’m coughing up my own lungs. I’m spilling all this red into the street. I do it because I love you. I can’t help it, if I love you. There is nothing left to do, except pray to be delivered. Except remind God that I have already suffered. Remind Him that I have suffered enough, already, I think.

it feels so fragile. doesn’t it? i’m afraid if i move too fast, if i say the wrong thing, it’ll shatter just like every one before it. some wretched part of me wants to crush it in my fist, just to get it over with, if only i could avoid the shards.

i was right and i know i was right