dont i give you what you need. no, i dont.

im thinking something better happen soon
something like lightning to the brain a stunning silence
of gutters and stars and the like
absolute massacre of knowledge and reality
bend and bending and broken, break
something to make us feel anything more
or something less than we can handle
begging for something but what?
scratch and rub at my innards
massage a sense of person and humanity
something to make me real
with eyes. two of them.
equidistant and vertical asking for more than i can actually give.
if i couldve given it, why would i hold back?
why would i cry with my eyes closed
and say and lie and say that i dont want to know you.
that i dont want to touch your face and feel something
even hate you on fire and burning and blisters
rubbed raw like fresh or modling meat
knowing something is wrong and smelling it and seeing it
little eyes of its own, all green and grey and
growing fur like the animals crawling in the peripheral
little round things like balls and bouncing.
i can hardly breath.  contractions piercing brain tissue in sharp jabbing fractions of light.
pouring and dancing dusty light
to shine something bright on to further enhance the smog
pile upon pile of the stuff.
impossibilities.
a tomb of empty empty things.
i cant love you and thats okay
it is, but should it be so easy for me to concede?
who am i that i let you tell me what to think to feel.
who am i.
if you know, tell  me.
because im out of the loop.