SPARK

I finally woke up, understanding there are people who only love dead people, there are people who’ll only love me if I die (and I know how that sounds, but bear with me)…these people–they say they love living people, specific people, but the people they love serve their metaphors, lick their boots and such. I don’t lick boots (unless I have to and for sure, there are boots I have to lick (I have my reasons)). With regard to serving metaphors, I have so many of my own. It’s a lot to serve them all, to go to war with them, make peace with them, watch them born, live, and die. But regarding humans–I want to love people in spite of their metaphors and while they’re alive even though conversations with the dead are easier. Gravestones are cold. I want to be loved despite my metaphors (because of them is ecstasy, pure joy). I want to be loved while I’m alive. Many of us want that. Don’ t say, “I don’t like you, but I love you,” because that always breaks my heart.”