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I want to walk home in the rain and pretend everything's alright. I want to cry in front of people and show them what it's like. I want to kill myself and pray that I don't die. I want Mark to listen and say he understands. I want to pause in life and at other times fast forward. I want to say it all out loud without confusion. I want to lie on my back with the sky and my secrets and you. I want to be old enough, but never mature. I want to move house, move country, change state. I want to be alone, but have you there beside me. I want ice cream and summer and fire and rain. I want the whole world to notice, but don't look this way. I want to play tennis and soccer and laugh. I'm so selfish sometimes it kills me this way, but I want you to be happy, and I want you to stay. I want to jump on a bus, on a plane, on a train, and I want sometimes to pray that I'll never see you again. I can't tell a lie, but I can't live the truth.
Fuck it! No poem can say what I need, and it doesn't have to rhyme to epitomise my creed. Or my greed. I want to walk into church and feel pure in my soul, and sometimes I feel I just need you to make me whole. Sometimes I hate myself with a passion. I feel so ugly sometimes, I feel I should wear a mask to save other people the agony of looking at me. And I still wonder why I'm single. Why you don't love me back.
I want this guilt to go away.
In the movies, the church doors are always open. Sometimes I just long for the quiet and calm, but only on Sundays. Only on Sundays, my dear, you want for too much.
I want to kill myself, sometimes, and I want to make it hurt. And I want to see you smile. And touch my arm. And hold me close. And you've only got eyes for another. I want to cry, and let go, and let grief overwhelm me. But people don't expect that. They don't expect I want you.