A Necessary Violence

There is something I need
that cannot be found in tranquil nights
or by watching the sun rise
nor the ceremonious ticking
of an antique grandfather clock
as wonderful a place as it is to hide.

I need something that is not
a long car ride
on a rainy afternoon
that deafens the sound of the soul
blows open my doors -
and allows me to
breathe.

I cannot decide if it is hunger, love, or lust
but it will not be found in snow, or books
nor soft hued painting in light or dust.

The dusk had no understanding
of this fiery passion
because the tender evening is home
to only the sticky, sentimental love
which clings like glue to your fingers
and your lungs
that disintegrates like ash from a cigar
come morning
the kind you try to grasp with your
aching hands
the kind that leaves you crumpled
black and blue -
bruised -
mourning.

I need something that
explodes from my lungs
devours my heart
consumes my being
like fire -
from the mouth of a dragon.

I need an emotional storm
so powerful
it grinds down the bleeding,
jagged edges of my personality
and pulses of lightning
and claps of thunder
which can echo inside me
and ignite my hollow sea.

I need lightning and fire
I need stars and thunder
I need to be -
- me.