First

I watered myself down

I wanted to make myself more

digestible 

for you

until I was merely

a hint of this and a dash of that

an undefinable simmering 

sour 

stew.

You 

barely sniffed at me before 

turning away–uninterested,

uninteresting

and I so easily

so carelessly disposed of

down that ominous drain.

Then

I spread myself thin like dough

I wanted to stretch my being as far as possible

I thought I had to touch 

everything 

your eyes were going to touch.

I wanted you 

to see the light 

falling through me

and you saw through me

but not the light.

In my last and silliest attempt

I tried being 

a  cronut.

I figured I’d just be 

all the very best things

I had got in one and finally

you

would stand in line for 

me.

But I did not come in a golden box

and I found it difficult 

to be “both creamy and flaky”

to carry with grace that shitty, pinkish, melting glaze

and –above all– to form that perfect little circle

because try as I might I was 

born with two ends.

That is when it hit me

I don’t even want to be

a fucking cronut

I doubt anyone ever really was

a cronut 

and I highly doubt anyone ever

needed a cronut. 

I am even doubtful cronuts actually

exist.

Suddenly 

I know very well what I am

and I know that I have all this beautiful 

fractured light in me

and I finally remember that light has no form, 

         light 

                                     just 

is.

Oh the irony of it!

I am coming full circle 

my ends finally connect

I un-stretch myself

I roll myself up in the oddball 

I am

I boil off the water 

mercilessly 

until I know I am 

just me

right here

right now.