Shred My I To Pieces

Greg Prince
3 min readJan 14, 2019


Accepting a position to serve and give then thrive.

Ripping my heart out and stomping on it with a spatula.
Seeing you hurt gives me more reason to try harder.
The screaming of your cough rakes over my mind with shivers,
little icy fingers pricking at my spine.

One cannot define love by the hugs and kisses.
One cannot spell affection with a thrust and orgasmic twitch.
One seeps into the true meaning of caring by lifting up another
and going beyond strain and comfort to proffer all effort to heal and build up.

Can you see, can you feel, can you win by losing yourself?
How will this loss take from me or does it only add?
Must there be a time of empty? Must I feel despair and rending of last hope?
Where is the remedy? Who will give it? Is it already mine yet I shun it?

Trample on my feelings.
Scramble my plans and desires.
Crash my dreams and need.
And I will look at you, Destruction and laugh.

The sinking and dust coating and attempting to weigh down my heart
have no power as breath cleans the way and…



Greg Prince

Bringing real feelings along with messages of inspiration and imagination to life. Awakening is the symptom of my infectious condition. Poetry is my condition.