Observe! — my animal-like yearning and buzzkill brain.

I fear I am becoming rabid. 

A dog in the heat driven to madness.

I want to be held and I want to never be looked at again      

[Do you see?]

I make a conscious effort to accept my loneliness. 

I plait its hair.                                              

[Allowing myself to unravel as quietly as possible]

I give it its own welcome mat and scribe it sheet music.         

[The blues]                       

When the night comes, I let it smother me to sleep.

I could’ve been something great,

but I don’t even like the way I write.

I think I peaked at fourteen.

Back when life was learning how to order breakfast 

in French and hiding books underneath my pillow

when I was meant to be asleep. 

I don’t talk to people the way I used to anymore.

I don’t dream the way I used to. 

And it’s been years. Oh my god it’s been years.