i'm sorry for asking but please come take me home

i channel my inner television monologue
staring into the bathroom mirror in the dark
at 2 am on a practice run for spending
the rest of the night with my eyes open.
eating a bowl of pinecones patiently
waiting for the forests of christmas trees
to grow and bloom inside
until they are consumed
by an electrical fire.
just a bottom feeder
on the lower end
of the food chain
scraping by.
just creeped out
because i can't
feel my hair.
i don't think
i'll ever
figure out
what happened
to this place.
i don't think
i'll ever
get over
it.
waking up
not being able
to fall back asleep
is just wasted potential:
everybody needs friends,
but i've never been able
to stand up straight.
i think i like you a lot
only cause i'm so good
at hurting myself.
so lock all the locks,
take all the keys,
and keep yourself clean,
cause i'm alone again
and i don't like the things
i see.