Expurgation

Take my soul
and break its arms.
Let it not hold
the burden of my past.
I would not
take it with me any longer.
It grows cancerous and
I would rather one pain
than the other.

Take my sense of destiny
and whip it, 'cross the shoulders.
Make it uncomfortable again,
let it not rest longer.
I would not stay and
moulder in such
profound and
rancid stagnation.
There is no life here.

Take my mind
and throttle it.
Press deeply into its
airways, only give mercy
at the last moment.
Let every remaining thought hereafter be
like a ragged, deliberate breath.
No more the coasting suppositions
of a lazy, self-indulgent brain.

Take my fear of others' opinions;
douse it in gasoline and light it on fire.
Let it shriek and shrivel
and let the skin of it crackle
like bacon.
I would not remain in its
covering and protection any more.
The writhing, burning pain
will bring freedom.

Take my life
and twist it, stretch it,
rip it in half, if need be.
Cut and break and
kill what you must of me.
But let me not
remain as I am.
For that pain, above all others,
is too great.