Sick of the ennui of the socially accepted.
The meek of the muted, repressed passions.
The colorless wan of “please”
and “no offense”
and “if it’s ok with you,”
phrases to cushion the leap,
mask the truth.
Set free your pent up frustration, excitement, vigor, fire.
Scream!
Devour the cream and all.
Glut yourself, then regurgitate
just because you can.
Release your visceral insides, display them, paint them.
And have no regrets.
Jump if you want to fly, run if you have the inclination to feel the wind in your face.
Do what brings satisfaction, pleasure, and disregard the oppressions of unsaid restrictions.
Inhale the refreshing redolence
of limitless life
because you are alive.
Just because
you are alive.