marge

I want skin that doesn't bleed. I want eyes that dance. I want a smile like the waxing moon. I want to be impervious to slings and arrows. I want to be invisible. I want to dance like my blood is liquid fire. I want to write a new bible, for the generations of lost and wicked, on the back of truck stop bathroom doors. I want to say something worth hearing. I want to scream until the monotony breaks, and rends every last worldly eye greenbluebrowredgreygoldblackdead off the road, off the page, off the screen, off the wall, out of the head, until there is nothing to be seen but the violent vibrations that emenate from my throat in crushing waves.

I want a heart that doesn't feel.


I want to be seen.




m.