I'm too confused to turn my thoughts into poetry so I let them mix together like paint until I make a nasty, muddled mess. I'll glop them on a canvas and call it "Love, I Guess." I'd like to crack your skull open so you can feel this raw. Then I'd fill your head with termites and watch them as they knaw. I want you to feel helpless so you can understand why I'm so breathless. Why am I so loveless? Why am I so hopeless? Just feel nothing and everything all at once, or, rather, everything and do nothing about it. Maybe I'll feel nothing so I can do everything wrong. I'll dance a dance or sing a song and let rain fall around me without covering my hair because I just don't care anymore. I just don't care. I'm in like and love and hate and jealousy and loneliness and an unfailing passion to have everything I've never had before. Crack my head open and take out my limbic system. Let me be numb. Take out the memories. Let me be dumb. Clean it all off and put it back in. Let me feel whole again.