to cause some trouble, ruffle your feathers:
take something that wasn't mine,
toy with it, make you chase it;
for you to think of me, endlessly and into the night,
where unconsciousness felt like cheating
if only you could show me that anger
in your blood shot eyes
I think I would crumble to my knees if I ever felt powerful enough
to grab your attention
all your violence
and have it clustered up on me
I want to be part of something greater
a plot that hasn't been written, yet
my position is acquainted only
maybe a brush on the arm or
a friendly handshake
a bland reminder that I was never meant
to take the fantasy with me