I want to stab myself with love
I want to rip open my chest
and tear off my ribs one by one
and scream kindness like a gunshot
to fill the empty space.

I want to pull my heart up from my throat
—scraping, bleeding—
pierce it with a thousand needles
answer plant seeds of hope to sprout, wild and fevered
quick and ready and sure
like flowers in the rain.

I want my limbs to get caught on a snag of beauty
and be torn from me, stuck in the brambles
because like attracts like
and I am beauty
but my body, it doesn't know.

I want to strip from myself my ligaments and tendons
like wires from a wall
—if I'm truly an electrician of the soul
I should know what's gone wrong—
with a little compassion sewn into my veins
maybe I'd be like new.