BRENDA SERRANO

I want to let go. At moments I can but mostly it’s as if I’m knee high in the stickiest of mud. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. And I mean it. I don’t want to dream of labor. I want to feed cats and dogs and take them on the longest walks of our lives. I want to love all the animals while also hating myself that I had bacon this morning. I want to travel the world and see all the wonders that hide deep. It will be in no time that the guilt will override my joy. I want to hug my mother and not have the thought of impermanence cross my mind. l want to stop wanting, to stop wanting, to want. 

My existence is vile at times. Maybe I need an increase in my medication, or at least that’s what my doctor will make me believe. There is no concern to be had, it’s just another day. Let’s move along. I want to release all that is stored inside me. Maybe to scream my lungs out on top of a mountain. This is the truest form of me, and it’s the safest I’ve felt. I want to hug my dog. Continue to tell her all my secrets and pray for her soul to be forever in my dreams. To run up and down the streets with absolutely no fucks given, excuse my language. Actually no, I don’t care anymore.

I want to continue to feel the ecstasy of our lips meeting for the first time. It gives returning feelings of what was unknown. I prefer it that way. For pain, what the creation of human existence is founded upon. Everything hurts, and I wish for it to not. All I want is to stop wanting to want.