Too much time spent waiting on the ocean to drown me, the burning sand of my beach and how it embraces everyone but me, the blots of pumice on the water, the teeth-like shoreline, hates me.
Rather be a Shaman, live in a cave and heal people, run like a wolf through my forest, collect spores and whisper into the breeze, I'd like to cast spells and skip rocks across the pond, pray for rain like seashells and pine cones.
I wanna shake my head, rattle my squirrel bone necklace, flicker my eyes a bright-white and watch the sleepy night skies crack open in brutal, brick-red fissures and electric green spiderwebs, I wanna see the pale faces of the ancients and wait for them to visit me, my cloak of wasps and snake skin alive and breathing, staring into a ceiling of bitterness, embrace me.