I want to glow in the way that a burning house does       but
I'm afraid to lose my foundations;
I've kicked them out from beneath myself so many times that I've stopped blaming god and since then, also, stopped asking him

who wants to be the pacifist that allows rot to turn to decay? I want to be the annihilator that turns lust into impassioned regret.
I will announce in the hour of concession every ill thought I've held, turned to glass beneath the pressure of my own resistance

I am powerless to act upon my desires,
I am sick in the same ways that i am well