Orphan heads search for bodies and sometimes, they find them.
Lose it, I'm going to lose it, I'm going to lose my mind. Do you want
to lose yours too?
Do you want to pull open your scalp, peel away the layers of hair, skin, bone,
Right to that grey-pink matter and rip it
right out, ball bits of it into your fists until
it's flat and hard like a flame, throw them away?
Do you want to jump off a cliff barenaked and spend
decades in a desert, lighting matches with your skin?
Do you want to feel the grinding of the earth under your palms
let it shape you into a shooting star?
Do you want to take me away and curl up
under a frowning purple sky until the rest of the world
insists on joining us? Do you want to become a ghost? Vanquish your demons? Suffer no more?
Of course you do.