Your hand
Reached through the ethers
Ever so slightly,
With a fingertip that
Brushed,
Ever so lightly,
against the skin of my soul.
Leaving your fingerprint on the surface.
And I've never been touched the same again.

I'm really good at falling in love with potential.
So put on a good face and tell me
A half true story and I'm sure
By the end of the day
You've probably sold me.

You've got me hooked
Cuz I bite the bait.
Ripped from the water,
Now scared of my fate.

Gut me open,
Skin me alive,
Peel off each individual
Rainbow scale,
Do whatever it takes
To make you feel more like the alpha male.

They always say,

"There's plenty of fish in the sea."

Well now there's one less of me.

I've told you I'm jumping out of my skin.
Bursting out this body
And hopefully
Shedding everything
That ever kept me
From being anything
Other than absolutely free.

You don't understand this restlessness.

I've waited.
I've waited and yearned and longed
In pain for so long and I just want
It to stop.

Make the wanting stop.
The call.
Cover my ears and close my eyes
But I don't hear it from anywhere
Other than from inside.

So how do I run?
How do I hide?

An old soul throwing a temper tantrum.
Yelling at the sky
Hoping God is listening
If that's where he lives
Or if he even exists.

Under the night sky,
Stomping on the ground,
Glaring at each individual star,
Hoping that they can feel
My hatred.

My black, hardened chest
Cracks and shifts,
Exposing the lava pool underneath
That's been slowly burning me from the inside out.

Passion bursting through every crevice now, no longer able to hold in the pain.
Boiling in my throat, bubbling up and over, choking on a volcanic mouth.

The agony that comes from how torturous it is to have both equal opponents in the
Battle between fear and love.
I don't want to know who wins anymore,
I've had enough.

All my life has ever been was war
And all I've done was hide alone
In my trench and fox hole.

I just want something bigger,
Something more,
Without so much fear convincing me
To become the quitter.

"God," I think,
"Could I achieve enough inner agony for you to help me make it stop?"
My knees hit the concrete,
Eyes on the stars,
My skin melting off my very bones,
I collapse an empty corpse.
Every last bit of my semblance
Slowly burning like charred paper edges,
To leave behind a skeleton
And hopefully free the mind.

beg
beneath the shoulder blades

if this touch is nothing more than
lonely synapse
and dopamine

rushing to embrace kin

or run your hand through her hair
as if your fingertips are magnets,
and all her thoughts follow along

if such a small thing

in the midst of celestial bodies
each on their slow decline
interfering, colliding in shadow

would turn us all into a lie

it is a good one

and I will tell it

in times grip
held fast
yet fragile as air

Mankind forgets

and is gone
in an instant
forever.