I lie down in a padded space.
I am safe in its softness.
When I am crazy enough, I will extend my arms and break the box.
I will tear fabric apart and chew the filling inside.
Its feathers will turn into butterflies.
I will stand up and shriek.
I will shout at the top of my lungs.
When I am crazy enough, insects will come out of my mouth.
I will put cockroaches in your coffee cups.
I will turn into ice everything I touch.
My footsteps will become gardens.
I will spill colours from my fingertips.
When I am crazy enough, my heart will turn into a ferret.
It will rummage in my insides for its way out.
I will see the skies darken.
I will cry a thousand rivers.
I will not speak a single word.
When I am crazy enough, I will make the air look like poetry.
I will draw gods and goddesses on handkerchiefs.
I will speak eighty seven languages.
I will boost life into statues.
I will sing a never-ending song.
When I am crazy enough, I will turn myself inside out.
I will set my angels free.
They will make me sleep for ages.
They will make my hair turn white.
They will wake me up when I am no longer crazy enough.
I will be extraordinary.
I will miss my padded space.