i sometimes feel that i am only novelty
when i am drunk and candid,
too inebriated to not be absurd.
they think it's funny when i'm cute and slurring.
i start fights and curse like a trucker.
i'm endearing until i'm sober,
and then i'm just an everyday bore.
i can tell you anything when i'm drunk,
i can even look at you when i say it.

i imagine what they say about me when i'm not there.
i'm always thinking of someone i admire,
i want to sleep with him as a personal triumph,
if i were a man i would strive to be him.
he is what i would call perfection
if i believed in the word,
and i cling to him as if i were lost at sea
and he my floating life raft,
pierced and sinking.

i don't know that i've ever been wholly enamoured.
to love you must first be loved,
and i wonder why those that fall for me
prove nothing but fleeting whispers and unended starts
to what they thought would be long-lived.
once again, i have failed to make the lasting impression.

what it must feel like to know you are needed,
that your breath alone serves as the most important
aspect of someone elses existence,
that nothing could be accomplished without the promise
of that person's support.
you can never be exactly confident
without the stride of that step to assure you,
you must be doing something right,
because there they are, waiting.

i'd like to fall to my knees
rip out my hair. i want you to see me break down.
i want to warn you, mostly because if you are to leave me
i want you to do it now, in the cruellest way possible
so that i have no chance to wonder what would have been
had i not taken away the possiblities of happenstance.

the luxury of sanity has never gotten far enough
from my lips to form a sound thought.
i want to hear you scream obscenities
just so i know you're not purity.
i want to make you angry, just to see
that you're brows sometimes crease.
i want to make you uncomfortable
to appreciate that you can't always make eye contact
as your stares revert to my swinging feet.
and i want to make you shake like i do,
i want you to be nervous and unsure.
i want to hear it outloud.

i just want someone to help me cope
with these unsaid truths, these listless lies.

09/18/2005

Posted on 09/18/2005
Copyright © 2024 Lauren Singer