if only any crowd i enter
could give me that same old
mystic ecstatic airborne drug
of elated nightblindness...

or at least a break from this
damp dormant disillusionment,

you would definitely find me
anywhere roaming rampant
restless and so discontent—

        —instead of gasping
        for oxygen that
       we didn't already
        use up together,

or suffocating myself
with the refused exhales
i used to scream out
as soon as you weren't there
to listen to me obediently
accordingly silently suffer...

                 you did tell me once before
      that you will do to me
                     ...whatever you wanted to;

well, now that i seem to
no longer matter to you,
would you be so kind
and take away all this*
useless infected air away too?

       cause if breathing
   just means to inhale
            the same breath i used to
         cry out every single night
    i let you scar and bruise me...