It went for my throat but hit me in the chest

this molten lava, broken August
everything once put to rest

was out and up and kicking

there’s nothing to do here but try to be buoyant

I want straight answers

to be clairvoyant
and blanket myself in omnipotent thunder
I don’t want to fear anything


I am certain I would be content
to live a life so morosely stagnant 
that
my muscles calcify and the pressure to become anything else but a fossil disappears

though also, underneath my skin

is the desire to stretch and end and begin
and no season will ever bruise it

and time can never fully dissolve it
and the fear still clings, but I know not to trust it
the lightning strikes, but I too, now emit

the flash
the moon waxes and wanes
and the shadows thrash

but the sky

remains 
malleable