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