If I could just make something of myself-

If I could flesh out a life,

A being, a soul-

Transform my tears into passion,

With a match and a mixing bowl-

Not a candle flame

But a blaze,

A house on fire.

aaAaa

If I could take failure

Out to dinner,

Stand it up, blow it a kiss-

Say goodbye and have a good long

Sob-

If I could tug my dreams

Out of my skull

Like a magician's

Technicolor hankie-

Trap it in my palms

And let my fingers

Bloom

So that it's nothing but

Twilight's fickle pollen,

The dirt from an Angel's skirt.

aaAaa

I could be happy,

I could trick myself

Maybe-

I don't know-

Which

Is Terrifying,

Mortifying, Horrifying

And Exhilarating and Brilliant-

It's the spice

My cold pea soup needs.

aaAaa

My life,

Has started to crawl

Slowly

towards-

"The Beginning."