I am too full of me;
each step I take weighed down by
self.
Abnegation only through guilt;
guilt of me, myself, I.
Or abnegation solely to escape
such heaviness, such guilt.
What will it take to lose myself;
to float freely amongst the
clouds?
What will it take to be free of
self;
no longer defined by the confines
of me?
Maybe the clouds are composed
of marriage-compromise
or the screaming of a newborn
child.
Or perhaps those are the means
to cut loose my arterial walls;
to slowly bleed myself of me.
But shouldn’t there be another
way;
some other means of escape?
For what use am I,
still so full of shape?
Am I doomed to wrestle;
doomed to stifle;
doomed to writhe
in this saturated state?
Have I been given a Call
that I cannot fulfill
because I am I yet still?
