I want to French kiss chaos on a street called, ‘Despair’.
Bind my hands with selfish choices,
shackle my feet with poor decisions
and spread my legs on cracked pavement in an empty lot
where trials and tribulations are conceived.
Give me wounds, with hemorrhaging.
The regretful tears and unwanted stress.
I want raging rivers, rocks smashing against my body
with abrasive strife that tie hope to an anchor from a ship
with no sail.
I need to slowly sip on scorching infidelity
blistering my throat with abandoned trust,
so forgiveness can be tested.
I want to fuck my friends
and make passionate love to my enemies,
have oral relations with negativity-
while positivity sits stoic in abstinence chair.
I want to be beating and battered by misery,
allowing loneliness to soothe me with ointment from
Let me hold Pain in my hand-
measure it’s heaviness from a broken heart,
and let it fill my soul with an emptiness only death can leave behind.
I want to pray on spicy, exasperated knees
Protest to God when things don’t go my way,
because I need my faith questioned and my spiritual foundation agitated.
I want crossroads with the missing intersections
just to create a canvas of confusion.
Life will always rape you with the force of hysteria and mayhem-
Raw, without lubricated preparation.
Life should be fondled to expose being too content
It needs to be caressed,
to give up it’s deepest secrets.
Repost 10- 8- 2013 / Revise 3-29-16