White Blood

Blood spills from the cut in my brow,
staining my hands,
staining my drink...

I don't think I ever properly set myself free as much as I did last night when we played our show. I let go of everything. All the control, all those thoughts that normally squeeze my brain, all those dangly body parts that remind me that I'm human... gone... I was what I truly am... I lost all my inhibitions that I ended up smashing my face into the head stock of the bass guitar (not intentional) as I was doing my seizure moves and uniting with the universe...

The blow caused quite a deep cut in my brow. I remember, when it happened, thinking, hm this could be quite bad... as the set came to an end and I crawled on the floor releasing my screams as I clasped onto the mic, I felt the warmth of blood run down my face, stain my hands... yup, this is definitely bad...

I am not human.

I am whatever I choose to be.

You can tell me what you think I am,

but I'll most likely believe differently.

So blood pours down my brow,

warming the bridge of my nose,

sweetening my fingertips,

that's what happens when you set yourself free,

you (can) get hurt.

But no matter the pain,

the scar,

the amount of blood shed,


being
          free,


if only for a moment,


is
     always worth


the suffering that comes after.