Skin
SEP 08, 2024
It’s weird. All of this. I want to salute to the sun in the morning mourning, I am mourning, I want to worship the trees and call to God and not feel ashamed or estranged doing so. Maybe I should be running, to the city, or wherever, the ocean. Maybe I should be living free. Because I’m not. Living free. Where should I go? Where is there to go?
I want to know, where I can go, to find myself and go to heaven. Where can I find it? It is not here, I want to know. If only they could understand. To what God should I be answering to? The politics that rule generations of people? The synchronicity that floods my reality? The people that pay me? Where should I go in this world? I do not belong in the city I belong to. I was not made to work like this, my body wants to run. I do not know these people, they do not know me. I am the witch they fear and the love they seek. I am a ghost in their dreams, the nightmare in their reality, why can’t I see?
My skin is deep, the layers upon me, they have reached me, I am my own worst nightmare, I am the devil I seek and the God I fear, I am the ghost and the sheep and the cow and the wanderer and the traveler. I have many layers, I am all that I see. I can see. My body wants to run. There is something wrong with me. I am also pure. But I don’t fit in the box, you see. So let me go, set me free.
I am coming to the city, something calls to me. I want to be alone, I want to be free. Faces I see all day long remind me of the sun, I want to go home, to heaven, please let me be. Let me go, set me free. I’ll find my own way, on my own, you’ll see. Here I am God! Look within me!
Holy matrimony I remember the cadence that circles my brain and tickles my spine when I dance. I feel the snake within me and the echos surrounding me. I hear the call to come home, inside my body I am home.
These vices have no hold to me, these bodies have nothing I seek, I must run away, to the city, here I am God, here I am.
I can stare at it all day, the cost, the cross, the change. Empty drawers, an old home, a house on fire.
I wish I could set everything on fire and walk away.
I want to feel alive. I am nothing but atrophy. Your voice is what kills me, it is what’s killing me. I need to use my own—my voice—but when I’m around you I have nothing left, nothing to give, I am empty around you. I will always love you, but I have nothing for you, I cannot offer anything up to you. I am empty, I am starving, all the time, I am dead, and I am healing.
I am licking my wounds and screaming for you,
but you cannot hear me. I am screaming and climbing up the walls
and I am trying desperately not to fall, not to run away, not to scream, not to fall. Please, I am begging you to hold me close, hold me so I know I am alive. Hold me so I can feel alive. Hear me please, I beg you. I scream for you, I love for you, I long for you to hear me.
I don’t want to fight at all.
I want to love.
