Tonight,
I desire to read all the lovely verses laced with pain
And be a drunkard,
Drunk senseless on the ache without a name.
Life depends on the arrangement of twenty six letters.
It can smash your soul like dried cedar leaves,
crushed slowly inside your palm.
Am I disturbed or am I calm.
Maybe both?

Someone once said I wanted two impossible things at once.
I do.
What fun, to have absolutely nothing,
But craving absolutely everything,
Like a madman at the last stages of his crazed existence.

I want the open valleys and the thirsty deserts
spreading endlessly across continents,
The lovely seashore with its conchshells littered along with human waste.
I want to huddle around bonfires
and write pages inside tents,
And dance tameless during tempests full of rage and haste.
I want it all, I want it all.

I love you for the simple reason you exist,
Or maybe its hatred of the highest degree,
bordering on insanity,
Did I forge your identity?
Did I fill your hollows and paint you flawless,
And get carried away in this life of lovelessness?
If yes, what a fool I have been.

But you're the wildest beauty I have ever seen.
I cannot unlove you even if I try
excavating my flesh and ripping away my lungs
You're in my system, you're in my veins:
Like the last bloodbag attached to the dying man,
Drip, drip, drip, drip
And the final cruel twist of a knife.