push
i jolted awake
sat up straight
choked on the current events of my waking life—
amounting to nothing but an office job in hell.
even the best altruists, at peace humans,
maintain boring careers i want no part of.
thrills, freedom, a new beginning.
i want to live where excitement does,
to be buried in art and love,
to be immersed in the poetry of the earth
and amount to more.
the physical need to create
tears through my bones,
races nonstop and shreds them as it goes.
the yank up
sent my body into fits:
the seizure of a raspy throat
a hurt heart
no guidance, fear of no free will
& no ability of escape.
my body.
my poor, useless body.
it weakens and breaks
under the pressures.
sleepless nights loom
over me like a mushroom.
i, tiny like alice,
cower under worldly malice.
