Do Not Ask Me to be Disciplined

There is no word I dislike more than discipline. I do not want to be disciplined. I want to bury myself in the cake and savor every drop sweetness as it melts into my skin. 

I want to lose myself in your eyes and swim to the depths of your soul the first time you tell me your name.

I want to wear my heart on the tip of my tongue and spill my blood with every damning word I let trickle into your ears.

I want to be too much. I want to be everything all at once and dive off the cliff at every crossroads. I want to share my soul, bare, raw, ravenous, with this world and root my insatiable spirit deep within the caverns of the universe.

I want to sing off key at the highest volume and watch as the trees dance in my wake. 

I want my power to shake the ground on which you walk on, to shatter the rules which you abide by.

I want you to think in colors and feel in flavors.

I want you to fall upwards in my presence filling your lungs with liquid gold.

I want this life spread thickly across the surface, my fingers scooping out the meat.

I want the mess smeared across my cheeks and licked out of my belly button. 

I want to rip apart the world discipline letter by letter and stash it with the unserving pieces of my dying soul. 

I have outgrown the need for the limiting,

I am not the girl I was tomorrow.