Kill Thyself

The best day of my life, may very well have been
the one where after expressing suicidal desires,

My musically gifted, philosophically-explorative
uncle exclaimed, yes Calvin, you should kill yourself.

I put myself in these snide shoes, and cannot quite
fathom the level of courage it took him to utter this.

I have been instructed a handful of times before - 
in Call of Duty voice chats, by cruel, torn down women

on dating apps, maybe once or twice to the
face by middle-schoolers searing in the pain of their

own cowardice. But, never before, until this day had I
been told from the place of loving heart, to carry this out.

It was quickly clarified - do not shut off the body.
I was told he believes that it is not mine, but a rental.

Are you the type who takes extra care of that which is
borrowed? Ever heard the idiom ‘drive it like it’s rented’?

I was presented with the first cemented concept
of how to live in my body and care for it as

the vehicle, which it is. Suddenly able to see myself
as essentially the invisible, indivisible mystery.

Mister-y? So how I associated with my vehicle had
instantly shifted, and as Rumi once did, I discovered

I had been knocking, seeking entry - yet found myself
to be already inside… For permission granted to a club

I have always been a member of. These places I
would go, the things I would do, were poisoning me.

Then only fitting that the one who sipped the ‘play-poison’ 
I had concocted for him as a child would be the one to

bestow upon me the good news. May God instill in me the 
courage to break it to many others. Who's play-poison

have I, will I be, sipping on? Kill the versions you
desire no longer to (em‘body’), he said! Shed the skin.

As my body drives the car, it is I, that drives this body.
Phoenix. Folklore. Story of the people, the human.

I am the observer, the noticed, what you feel. When glazing
over the assembly of characters - imbibing in spirit, ‘words’.

Just could be, infinitely far more than what you see.