Unreachable

I want to become something real to be greater than this house and smaller than my tears. To feel helpless And find fulfillment in a version of myself less ephemeral. Less imaginary Less reasonable. I want to watch myself erase the days old to-do list on my mirror and Feel something raw and unrefined in my reflection So that it consumes me and I have no explanation for it and Desire no cure or course of action I want to want something real. And then, Be greedy enough to ask for it. I want to want something so bad. That my heart falls through my ribs and my skin peels off my bones rough and frightened and Chilled by the thought of not having it. That I shrink until no one can see me. Until I can slip between the bars Until I no longer belong to their scrutiny Until I no longer belong to their ambitions Until I, and everything I am that is real, belong only to myself I want to become something free To be greater than my fears and smaller than my dreams So that I am insatiable And devour anything before my eyes And consume everything I can feel with my own two hands and in the rhythm of my sunken heart So that when I spread my wings, I am whole I want to become something real greater than this house and what lies inside these four walls And smaller than my tears. So that I, clothed in nothing but greed, fit just right in your arms And when you hold me I am tangible And I am real.