I don't want to be this way anymore

Forgive me this imperfect body of shadows, fingers & teeth. I only seek to be an angel even though each morning as i rise, i fall. I may have failed you but gods, what do you know of hungers, cruel & wild? What do you know of walking up to misery, cap in hand, sure that it is better than loneliness? Walk away! Judge me my sins! Throw your stones! Is it not this broken earth that gathers my bones into a shape for the wind to be dangerous upon? Is it not this fragile thing of bone & blood? Of course, you can hang it from your altar of right & wrong. What does an empty stomach know of right & wrong, of rule of law, of love?


anonymous973217_960_720.jpg
Image Credit:Pixabay


I know loneliness by name, & hunger & shame. Is this not what it means to be human, to be unholy before the heavens? Have you asked me where laughter went, why i write broken poems, what i do when i am silent, away from your righteous gaze? In the darkness, can you tell sinner from saint? In the storm, can you seperate the roar of the sea from the screaming wind? What do you know of deserts so deep that a whole world has wandered lost within its dry thirst?

I ask questions because you have not asked them. You have castigated, accused, rejected, ostracised me because i do not fit into your ideals, your borrowed conceits, your divine right to judgment. I ask because i too must defend myself before the father. You think i write from a place of joy & fulfilment? You think this is ecstasy? What will i be if not for you who gaze at me with wonder, extend hands of friendship without thought, wash the wounds of my absent love & still call me friend?

Since i have become fear, since i have become a seed spurn from the Mother's fingers without thought, do i not deserve the right to live this short life long enough to be forgotten? Everything is fine, i say to those who ask. You have your broken kingdoms to heal. You have your sad songs too. What right do i have to demand your love, your attention, your embrace? But if you see me bleeding on the humus, waiting for Mother to come & take what she has made, will you stop, speak, lift a finger in my aid? Will you love me for the briefest moment before my fire dies?

Will it take a tragedy for you to say the words? Will a knife, a noose, a gun, a poisoned drink suit you? Is it easy to live in this body everyday, hungry & thirsty, desperate, afraid, waiting for tomorrow to come, ease my pain & maybe salvation will come with it? I know that you too weep at night when the moon sees. I know how you fall to your knees when no one sees. I know that there are times when all you do is whisper your prayers to a blank wall, not seeking answers, hoping for silence. Is this not where i have lived within?

I just want to be touched on my skin, to hear someone say come, become a part of this, eat & drink with us, become a part of this. I want more life. I want to feel something besides fear & lust, to hunger for food not drugs, to laugh without the tang of pain. I want more of this life, to drink of this earth's manifold blessings. I want to hold my toy in the playground without worry that it will be taken from me. Do you understand?

I will find peace one day, i am sure. I can't be this much flesh without spirit. I will find salvation one day, i am sure. I can't be this guilty without redemption. So throw your stones my way. I am fragile, i will break. I have been broken many times before. I will patch this cathedral of horror together again & move on in my slow journey into oblivion. You think you know everything, you don't.

One day, you will whisper my name in jest & it will be hollow & sour on your tongue. You will wonder where i have wandered to. You will ask these old questions then but it will be late. You see, in this life, there must be a space for one such as i. There must be a place where washedout poets go to die. There must be a beach somewhere that is free for the poor & broken in spirit. If there is not, i will find my own amazing grace, my own alleluiah, my own hossana in the highest.

I know what it means to be alone, to endure rejection, to fail fickle friendships, to be unkind to myself. I know a lot about being tired of breathing but i want more of this life. It is all i really want, i swear. It will be good to breach these walls i raised, touch something tender & kind, something true that wants me too. That would be nice.