laying flat on the earth wishing so much for consumption viseral death a return to mother earth for as of dust we are from the day will soon come that transcendence is reached by becoming a life source springing forth another pretty flower growing unadulturated from a well-saturated grave The devil may wish to collect our pieces and God raps the at the door of our morose resting bed for a promised soul but not so much a hair is owed to them we are hers goddesses are to kiss our decayed lips and watch as life springs forth vibrant colors blushing on petal lips deep brown roots erupting through ribs to reach the surface and come crawing out a spring bleeding through ears bubbling up to rocks trees spitting forth and climbing high into clearing skies (our former world of mechanic expletives and technological coldness longer rusted and forgotten) Eden finally returing back to her place on this land our bodies becoming one, our spirits singing her song. I have the full intentions to crawl out of my skin and the fabricated reality it's subscribed to the glossy magazine lies that comes in the mail in it's various shapes and forms bleeding holes and stomache spasms yearing to be satisfied with corresponding materials cotton and food for dripping holes tired eyes and weathered head unable to sustain a few blows administered from the savage spirit that is me I yearn clawing on the flow and writing in the air for sweet, jism-like release my spirit the seed. and YES I AM SEXLESS I AM FED I AM HEALTHY YET I AM SICK, FAMISHED, AND NEEDY ah. ah. ah. four eggshell white beige walls insist on keeping me in their rigid confines. "I beg to differ," I say and I pick up a chair that wishes SO earnestly to kiss their flat white cheeks (call it unhinged violence, I say it's dedicated love. who am I to keep them apart?) but then again, just who am I? ask mother and she cries, a family potrait clasped in her hands with yours truly cut out ask father and her mutters vaguely about devil worshipping a girl gone sour and grips selfishly at the chains that are visibly around his downstairs cabinets and invisibly around his head and his heart Ask God, and he prentiously flips through his book of life pointing out quite plainly that I am is missing from the "URA-URE" section Ask Jesus and he motions to his hands where below his stigmata scars is my name Ask the world and I am indescernable among the colorful masses and myspace profiles Ask man and I am breasts and cunt ask woman and I am ugly.a bitch.a snob.a know-it-all. But ask me and I point to the stars. UNKNOWN.INNUMERABLE. DARK AND AFRAID. Ask me and I'll sing you a song pieced together from all the stories, noises, sounds, and screams I have heard in my time here Ask me and I'll touch my skin my body is a vessle of beauty all my own for no else Ask me and I'll open my mouth the destroyer and ressurector of imaginary times and world the painter of a glorious yet incoherent picture. Ask me and I'll say anything. because to be sure. I am no one's defintion.
