of a heavy god 

i am so scared of my own body.
i can feel several stones 
inside. 
two in my chest. one right behind
the skin of my forehead.
several up & down my arms.
they are round & smooth. 
if i go to swim in the lake
i'll sink
all the way to the bottom
& no one will be able 
to lift me out. 
i am heavy as in 
"bolder" & "sixteen wheel truck."
i lay on my back in bed
& look up towards the ceiling
hoping for a piece 
to fall down on me
soft as a bird 
falls from a tree.
there is no kind of touch
i want. 
with one hand
i move across my skin
& touch all the tender places
of dull hurt & ache.
praying is the truest form
of desperation. 
i told someone a few years ago
"i want to write
about praying" when i really meant
"i want to write about
asking for saving."
i could say "salvation"
but it sounds too much 
like jesus. i keep looking
for a quick reason
my body is 
so full of rock. i wash my face.
i brush my teeth.
i dream of a next year world
when nothing hurt at all
& i am safe from blood &
searching web md to try
to find a way 
to survive. who am i 
released from all these
layers of fear? 
i lied. i want to be held.
i want to be a loaf of bread
or at least a crowbar.
i want to float 
across the lake 
& pretend to be
a screensaver. dear god,
i am sorry i am asking this way.
i know it's not 
a kind way to be,
to ask only when you are
out of other options
but will you pull them out,
the stones, one by one,
& lay them on my end table.
in exchange i will
try harder to be
a beautiful person.
i will be so light
a wind will make
a feather of me.