Alone I’m strewn like wild strawberries on little girls' summer dresses
clothing their simmering bodies from the heat—
patched red and seedless onto fabrics worn by people
I hope will somehow understand me
and get me out of here
the wind will know exactly where I want
to be—
like a tide rumbling louder under the moonlight
like a careless child tracing the stars countless times till their one too
There’s no use in trying to fly
when I know I can’t move
I’ll just sit in place praying I’ll get blown away
into stardust
away from the microcosmos of theocracy–
turning my back to the ground
I so want my feet to feel free on
I’ll never understand the pale glimmering pearl-white
sparkle in my eyes when I stare at myself
that so wants it all to end if I never have my way
is it because I’m a nomadic— egotistical cunt?
or a star with a carbon-built mouth
that’s chewing on propagandists—
and circling in his own orbit
there’s just never a big wide open galaxy out there
big enough for me to be myself
and we both know this thirst in me of wanting
authenticity
will ultimately at the end just kill me
and I don’t want to die
I just want to be free