Stupidly Masochistic

tore in pieces,
i am blown by the blessed wind away
from your destructive hands.
tossed towards the stars but
the pressure is turning me to dust.
so better be in your chaotic tantrums than
in an urn of silent dread;
better be in the fangs of playful death than
in the embrace of still forever.

wait for me as i strangle loose from the chains
of safety and happiness.
it doesn’t matter if you won’t catch me,
it doesn’t matter if you won’t take me;
just wait for me as i braced myself together
so i can love you better than before you first broke me.