I invoke the muses to dance with me,

show me the way, seduct my writing and

lure my brain onto an adventure to bring forth

my feelings.

Rawness, openness.

Despair.

A heart aflutter and oh, so sore.

Blissfully connected while at the same time ignorantly

afraid- so very afraid

of nothing and all at once.

The cold and lonely state of Rigor Mortis can not

compete with the state of

extatic bliss; bleeding on the page

with all my might, fully alive and living.