Want
I want to melt
into wax. Struggle,
to breathe. Laugh
and cry and
let my veins
burn into nothing.
“What do you want to eat?”
She asks me slow
and there is a
knife in her left hand:
Large and ready.
I say nothing
and want nothing.
It’s irrelevant and
irreversible to want.
Once you want
one thing, you
want it all.
I can’t bring myself to want.
Not like this.
