To The Gods
Dear gods,
Wherever you may be...
I beg you to rip the Earth apart to bring me a lover.
Tear rocks from the mountains to make him hard and strong.
Use only the softest blades of grass to weave his skin,
So that holding him will feel like coming home.
Tie the wind to his spirit, to let him be free and wild.
But do not take the poor stars for his eyes, for they have given so much already.
Instead, dive deep into the ocean and capture its glow,
So that his eyes will captivate - ringing clear and deep.
Complete him by harvesting fire so that he will burn,
With love and passion so wondrous even you - Gods - will have to turn away.
I know you will not let me keep him for long,
As it is not your way to make things for just one person.
You will make him a beacon for all, but I beg of you - oh Gods...
Let me have him while he is still here.
Let me love him, let him be mine.
Until all the pieces of him will return to the earth once more.
Born Again
It's that one. It is full and alive, and it moves you. Before you were standing still, but now you're everchanging. It hurts and empties, but it also completes you in a way you've never felt before. When it's done it leaves you. It leaves, and you are no longer what you were. You're full with everything new, but you're also more empty now that it's gone. It never goes away. You might learn to ignore it or to consume placeholders to stop the vacant feeling it has left. But occasionally. That hollow will eat you from the inside out until there is almost nothing left. There is nothing quite like that summer. Nothing can ever feed that desire it gave you for life and for movement.
