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Anything , anything to be known.

See me on my knees again

gently now,

unhinge my jaw.

let's count the points-

I wish

I tried to convince myself yesterday, that it was worth starting my own holiday traditions. For myself.

I wish the rage that filed me then, made me believe in that now.

Today I am trying to convince myself that wintermint gum is a good replacement for cigarettes.

To live and breathe in the weight. To know what it is to be a God.

To create Gods ; life, air, earth.

Death.

Power.

The way creation seeps into my bones

My soul aches for something powerful.

Something endless.

Hopeless,

With rage and tears.

Screaming, seething, ache.

I wonder if I would succeed?

Or if I'd stake my life on the creation of my own undoing.

For all the cosmic temper tantrums,

The bugs crawl

The clouds change.

It is the smell

Of clay and growth and

In the magpies call, I

A reminded that

I too breathe.

There is so little left of me,

That hasn't been tainted

Stolen

I am the thief

sometimes, I commit crimes in breathing.

Everything hurts,

Sometimes I think it's better that way

Justice

For every awful crime sitting

in the hollowness of my bones

It is the price I pay for being alive

I do have moments of weakness,

where I beg the universe

for something -

anything.

more?

less..

I know that there's more.

this isn't everything

I wish I believed in,

something?

anything.

to be so, so, so, close

to have almost anything.

almost everything

and still

the want.

the air that comes from swollen lungs, too full of grief and sorrow to still,

it sends us wailing

screaming

begging.

for everything.

for anything.

please!

a cry or a cry for help,

please.

I wish I'd want for nothing.

I've never known content.

is she a friend?

more a cursed hero, lying always out of reach, keeping us forever crawling, scraping, hands, teeth and nails, until we have some semblance of,

what?

stangnacy?

what love is this?

olive theory, orange theory, pistachio theory; theories of kindness, oneness, selflessness.

breathe into me the life of a romantic, the air in my lungs is too stale to use, on anything more than cigarettes and survival.

on bat wings and coffee.

I wish it was bigger. bigger in the sunny greenhouses, in the pots holding the sunbathing cats. with the fireplace and askew blankets. with a table, just big enough for everything. staircases with grooves. hand painted windowsills, crafts in every corner, puppy prints on the door. a library known for its snacks

the snails that eat the Strawberries

a breadbox with half eaten goodies

Transformed

Pliant

In sticky fingers

Covered in the dough of life

To be reborn in the milk of human kindness

I beg the universe for some semblance of control,

Split and torn

From every soft tissue

In the marrow of my bones

I wish you would taste me

Rip me apart and

Feast

Until there is nothing left.

Until you have tasted

Every cut of meat that is my becoming

Like a jigsaw

Until I become some semblance of whole

Remade in your image

I would be completely undone

Unformed

Unholy

By choice.

The cosmic fury that hovers with baited breath

Maw gaping, panting, drooling

sink its teeth into

Everything

I am filled with the horrors of creation,

The glory of destruction

I stare

into the jaws

Count the teeth

Breathe deep the wetness

Until I am satiated

Less whole