I Want to Meet God Barefoot

I’m tired of being comfortable. I’m tired of laundry-fresh pillow cases and burnt out kitchen lights. I don’t want blankets in a snowstorm or sympathy for my foolish heart while I sit around at 2:00 a.m.with macaroni and Friends reruns. It’sall too benign and it sickens me. I want to have dirt under my nails and tan lines on my feet. I want to cry for a moment and be hungry for a few more. Iwant to look into someone’s pain and make it my endless night. I don’t to live…never knowing life.