It began innocently
As a childhood dream
To become a veterinarian
It began
As an aim
For life
This quickly dissolved
In seeing, ironically,
The popularity of using said professionals
To kill for convenience
.
Her target then moved
Easy breezy
To deep love
Committed to death do we part
This, ironically,
Ended in death almost as soon
As it started
.
These botched goals under her belt
The girl was feverishly taken over
Leaving the life goal behind
And instead aiming
For the goal
Of death
Starving her way to some place
Some peace, some hopefully ever after
.
This (somewhat) accomplished,
Lying in her hospital bed
Revived
She had a new goal
A life goal
One to vanquish the evil foe
To help others to find joy again
Free from the dark force
That sought to shackle them
.
Climbing, goatly
Up that ladder
Immersing herself in the System
Ironically, she saw
That which purported to help
In turn, was actually in the business
Of killing souls
The top, the goal not being what
She aimed it to be
The girl promptly hurled herself
Off the mountain, to die once more
.
Awakened on the islands
The life goals became smaller
Battered grand aims
Bringing her to her knees
Sipping Ensure at midnight
Feeling music sway her body
Waking to the sound of crashing waters
She made these
Tiny, whispering urges
Her life goals
.
The girl wasn’t sure she’d survive
So everything became a life goal
But also, a death goal
Her choices became
Rooted in the question:
“What would I do if I died tomorrow?”
The answers, minute by minute
Were her life
And death
Goals
.
Each day
Growing stronger
Seeing that, yes, today will bring another breath
She saw that maybe
There were broader horizons
And she dreamed of bellydance troupes
And playing bass in a rock band
Of building bohemian caravans
And serving tarot to heavy metal festival fiends
These became her new goals
Her life goals
Her death goals
.
Bushwacking her way through
All sorts of obstacles
(Including her penchant of slipping over to the other side)
The girl checked them off her list
Then, growing bolder
She aimed for living in clothing optional intentional villages
Onto ancestral pilgrimages in Sweden
Catapulting herself into working for Metallica
Then the scariest and most thrilling
Writing, publishing and releasing
Her spilling-the-guts memoir
Terrifying!
But also, death-goals-type
Amazing
.
Soon, the aim became less
And the presence became more
And what she did, mostly
Was surrender
And breathe
The things she’d dreamed of
Came without her aim
Backstage with Slayer
The house in the woods
The job at the apothecary
(The chronic pain gift was delivered for contrast)
And eventually the only aim
Became breathing
Presence
Serving
.
Serving her mother in her death passage
Serving her customers in their health challenges
Serving the person on the street
Who just needed to be looked at
As a human
These
Became her only death goals
.
Now, however
The girl has felt a rumbling
A strange and pulsing desire
To put the words of an inner/outer wise one
To the page
To carefully craft the words that helped her
Weaving them, leather bound, this grimoire
So that they can serve into posterity
.
The girl knows not
When she may die
But the clock is ticking
And she’s glad to be racing it, writing
Wondering
Will she succeed?
.
The aim to serve
The desire to write
The strange cackling wise one
Urging her on
Breathing…
These
Are her only
Death Goals
Now
Letting Go 