Want

I want to demonstrate value. I want answers for all the uncomfortable questions. I want to avoid “fucking up” and being dressed down. I don’t want to lose control of myself through others. I want to be listened to. I want to be young but I want more experience. I want it all now, not yesterday or tomorrow. My wants are vague, changing, hard to understand, hard to communicate. What I want is not realistic because I think bigger than thinking.

I want my family to be happy, healthy, and living their dream lives. I want the same for friends, strangers, and myself. I want a perfect ideal and those don’t exist. I want undying love. I want to strip my bones from my body to express the inexpressible. I want to die in front of billions of people in forms of art that move them. I want better than art, better than language, ankle, or force. I want this greed to cease. I don’t want fires overactivating my mind when all I want is sleep. I don’t want pages and pages of attempted explanation with no epiphany. I don’t want to talk, think, or feel; I want to burst unexpectedly and bond with all the fading stars.

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