Sometimes I day dream of disappearing,
Of coming apart
Of skin sliding off muscles.
Muscles coming undone off bones
Like a rubber band or bungy cord
Craving release from the responsibility
Of holding something inconceivable together
Finding relief from finally surrendering
To the unrelenting pressure.
Bones disintegrating to powder of marrow
on the howling wind
until I’m left with nothing but my soul
free to roam wherever I want to go
on whatever road
or endless body of water
of this dying planet,
until I succumb to the call
to join the metaphysical realm.
Then Michael will fasten angel wings
Onto my soul
And I will be remade into a being
Less fragile than bones and muscles,
More paramount than skin and flesh.
Then my soul will expand
And I will no longer
Be perceived through my physicality,
And I will be cured
Of this corrupt cynicism
And shrinking shallowness
That is trying to devour my soul.