each day

i think

of what else

i can share

to make me

more accessible,

less private,

more available,

less yours.

my goal

is complete removal

of anything you.

really, most things me as well.

if nothing is shared

alone,

then there’s nothing special

about anything

huh?

but i find myself leaving out

small detail,

because then,

it still leaves

the sacred,

sacred.

if no one knows

the real recipe,

no one gets the real deal huh?

whatever.

i just want to be wanted

at this point.

the rest doesn’t really matter.

screw you

and your godawful

messed up

principles.

screw impossible wishes

borne of nothing more

than a self absorbed

narcissistic dreamer

who plants horrible thoughts

where apparently

life can bloom.

or so they say,

waiting in line

for a chance at planting,,

really,

for the so called honor

of owning

the alabaster garden.

decay away.

the less real

any of these trick feelings are

the better.

that’s all.