can i just be a ghost already?
i’m sick and unsick and not sick enough to die
i’m so sick of being skin
so i want—no, demand
no hands to plant
on no thighs to fatten
and no eyes to water
no, no heart to fertilize
nor stomach to feed
nor feet to wonder
all that flesh and shit can fill a petty pit and live forever six feet
understand
this isn’t a deathwish but a ghostwish
i want to be footless and footloose
and free from all this fucking flesh
i’m tired of standing up
and of the gravity that chalks my bones up, too
when the world could be the one who has to chock up my gravestone
against the ground’s grave and greedy weight
because the world in its grey grief waits for me to fill it
so can i be a ghost already
i want to be the empty spot that the world cannot fill
2 thoughts on "can i just be a ghost already?"
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I feel the weight of the “g”s in “chock up my gravestone/ against the ground’s grave and greedy weight/ because the world in its grey grief.” Reminds me of Keats writing “I have been half in love with easeful Death” except the wish is to be “the empty spot that the world cannot fill.” A heady poem, for sure.
Great first line! I love…”I’m so sick of being skin.,”