tuesday | october 20 | 2009

punch-drunk love.

i want a love that makes me

more powerful than anything imaginable –

someone that breaks me out of this

neurotic prison and grabs me by the face,

slaps me around a little bit to wake

me up and says, "my love is fierce."

i want someone that i can fight for

to the death - or the pain, whichever

she'd prefer. i would throw myself through

glass for her. i would smash windows, crack

skulls, and maybe even shake babies on

her behalf. my love is fierce.

i would eat shards of metal for her.

i would crush her fingers with a hammer,

suck her eyeballs right out of her head because

i'd love her so much. she would be so beautiful

that i would slam her face on a grill to

watch it burn. my love is fierce.

i'm stretching through space and time

to find her, but i know she's there, nearby.

she must be because, talking about her, i sweat,

and thinking about her, my vision blurs, and i trust

that amidst the chaos and cacophony of

life, she will find me ready for her fierce love.