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If i were to ask you where the ocean end and heaven begin. If you were to laugh in my face telling me that a being such as I, cannot go and paddle through the stars.
Would it make this feeling any lighter? Something gnawing and clawing at my guts threatening to break the surface of the skin so the world could see what beast lurked within. Where something has to give.
Tell me of the journeys you behold on your castle of ships. That my bucket does not compare to. Talk to me of the light, of the super novas and of the nights that you bore witness to on the back of that wooden majesty.
If you cried telling me of your own beasts like rabbit's paws on your belly. Would I feel less alone a wolf among sheep?
Tell me and pray to whatever is up there. That you do not become like I. A stranger in my own body, a wolf in sheep's clothing, stone among the diamond vein as the heart of the earth beat magic through you.
I am alone. Paddling in a small boat. Hoping I'd find the place where I'd cross into the stars. Instead to fall into their reflections. Screaming loud as I can yet silent under the waves that struck the blow that killed the wolf.