Spark (2012)

Give me any flaws but these;
I'd beg if I had pride enough to forsake.
I want to spark from the light of these eyes and leave them dull,
they've done me nothing but kindness and yet I cannot stand to be behind them,
or in them,
or of them.
These hands are not my own, may they bind themselves accordingly.
May they be still and calm and somehow keep what little dignity they have left.
I should run from these legs until I could step out of myself,
until they'd stop following and I lost sight of everything else.
But to be lost? Ha.
I should be so lucky.
Perhaps if I lost this body, this shaking heap of dissonance, perhaps then I could see.
I could cast off eyes and hands and legs,
and mouth and ears and nose
and feet and arms and every other part that is plagued by inadequacy.
Perhaps then, I could spark in spite of me, or it.
And if that spark should feed a flame,
well. There are worse things.