Years

of feeling

like a stain on your shirt
like a pebble in your shoe
like a thorn in your flower arrangement
like a regret
like a faulty appliance
like the cause of all your problems
like a shadow in a quiet room
like I’ve forgotten my lines
like a starving, pitiable mongrel festering in the street
like the only people safe to love are fictional or far away

the lifeline lady said she could hear me bleed through the phoneline
pity my gored face never bothered you much

I want the Doctor
I want to know what it feels like to be loved
I want my sadness to make you sad