with all

i am blind excpt fr hr dress. soda wine smokes bob words dizzy with dissatisfaction why can't i say what makes me write this? i waste hours spitting small phrases and remain plain virginal bored twitching leg why can't i just ride the dog and see what i want to see when i get like this? up all night even now with the water in the cold air and i will not use my fenders and i want to take off all my clothes and get WET fly thru the dashboard because other people humour me and pretend to know my name when i can't even remember her eyes since i canceled my subscription to the comics. used to write with dry-erase about her eyes and stick ink on paper to remember the looks i imagined but now all i do is increase my speaker size and lose myself in other people's stories of reveling and merriment and try to capture birthdays but end up alone at 2:54am with a room full of petty assumptions and a roster of sleeping former roommates that i pretend to have knwn. i want her to hit me hurt me make me sick give real meaning to this forlorn thursday night i wish i had more bruises on my skin and i wish i had the dexterity after the bottle's empty to extinguish the promise of cancer on my skin to make this a little more REAL, more real than forty years off the horse. would you break me if i opened up to you? that's all i want i swear