  Saturday Night Not So Special Vehemently struggling with this fear of silence Cramming words in my mouth like a binge eating,
 blonde bulimic I am heavy hand hair trigger reflex Strangers filling up wasted nights I should be saving I should be writing I should be seeking evocative stimuli Free drinks,
 motorcycles,  and advances No kisses,  no sex I save that for you Just a little verbal interaction I should be working out I should be pining I should be saving my words Company I need company A blank canvas to spout upon I enjoy looking at myself through someone elses cognizance It all seems so pointless once I give it definition I should be looking for a job I should be finishing that short story I should be missing my kin This bar is so crowded and these boys are so boring I sit and write as they stare I want to scream,  Please dont bother.  I have nothing you want It hurts to think that my restraint although by choice is meaningless I should be home waiting I should be sober I should be telling the truth I want to be sought after but not by these blank faces I want to be greater than the sum of my individual parts I am bad because I have noone to answer to If I were loved Id be perfect and less self-
destructive I should be improving my vocabulary I should be starting a band I should be opening my mail I practice Me on pretty little boys They eat it up like bits of chocolate Not a single one of them is worth it I dont want any of them I just want to go home 
