My insides swelled begging their casing to break. 

To be set free from the confines they had been expected to find comfort within- to sit with contentment for all eternity, to accept the known with no knowledge of what was outside of their ingrained idealization of a humble abode.

They throbbed, slight at first then gaining vigor as my vitals cried out so sweetly to acquire some sort of insight as to what lie beyond such a feeble body.
Rip me open from head to foot, expose the very reason for physical existence and destroy it. I want to feel my heart on the floor.
Drop my stomach from fifty stories if it means that of a slight fluster of butterflies will evolve into a spontaneous combustion of excitement along with blood-stained pavement for my proclamation of wide eyed wonder, and the butterflies.


Give my hands to those in need.
Sever them with the grace of which graciousness should be felt and hand these hands to the masses reaching for something, someone, to allow those who have fallen to rise above adversity. 

Lend a hand! Lend a hand! For I only have two.

Throw my eyes in places that uplift your soul.

Play the harpsichord of my vocal chords when in need of an extra push.

Keep my lungs, for you were my breath of fresh air.

Lay my skin atop rose petals and let it dissolve.

Throw me to beauty until I’ve become nothing at all.

Allow me to live without limits until I am all gone, for how can one truly experience all that is lovely without turning to it completely.

I want to be of use, you see.

Far from what existing as one conjoined body is set to allow me.


Cut me up into a million parts, spread me far and wide.

Then look to all the humbled souls, as if I haven’t died.