In a world of moss and grass
i fear i have mistaken fear for purpose
a purpose numbing and all human
a fear bigger than my hands and fingernails
but small enough to grasp it in between them
a desire to be sacrificed
like a lamb begging to be redeemed
in the hands of an all powerful god
shall i beg for mercy
shall i pull on my hair
each strand a plead for death to grab me by the hand
to lead me to a world i can see clearly
to rub my eyes like a man rubs the blood off his hands in the sight of his dead lover
to not fear but feel the desire consume me
to exist in between the minutes and the hours
where time holds no sway
and the grass starts growing out my armpits and my mouth
for my eyes to burn and to stick out
with the wisdom of a baby
and the innocence of a woman carrying the burden of her past
shall i beg for mercy from a god blind to his sins
shall i offer myself to the slaughter of an all familiar war
