The Need

When I woke up from my sleep
There was blood all over my face (from what I recalled from my dream)
And I was chasing somebody
And then I daubed their face with something
And there was somebody else too, mirroring my actions
And that somebody else had blood on their face too
We were sweating blood
But before the blood would ooze out through tiny pores of our skin
We would reach the threshold of something
And that just-before-the-breaking-point
Was a beauty
Of our selves
When we radiated our intensities
And our face glowed with all the blood running through our veins
And I wondered, on waking up, what it could suggest
I might be pursuing some troubled extent
And I lived the whole day safe and securely
When by the end of the day I pursued night and its sombre glories
I was touched by the threshold of something in me
And wished to unleash myself
From all the cages I might have imprisoned all the anythings in me,
From all of my past that I have ever lived,
And knew, if it was possible,
I would have grown wings
Then and there.
For the need.