I want to crack open my ivory skull and dig deep into the wet crevices.
I want to be an archaeologist of my own thoughts.
I want to unearth ancient bones, piece them together, and then scramble them to create new ones.
I want to grab words with my bare hands and tear through their meaty flesh and intoxicating aroma with my teeth.
I want to cut through the confusion and sink into clarity.
I want my burgandy blood to reak of creativity.
I want to heighten my addiction.
I am tumbling down and floating up.
Tossed by a whirlwind of details.