i really ****ed it up this time, didn't i my dear?

lift your shirt and scratch your back until you fall asleep
ease the knots from your neck and shoulders
after you've walked around new york city with your friends
all day
massage your feet and let you sleep in my lap
take you to the independent films that aren't released around here
the beach and dinner, mingle with my family
fireworks, comedy, shared literature and roadtrips
put up with your penduluming moods and indecision
the days you see the sun rise, tuck you in when you come back from that exam
visit you and your mother, your brother your father, be easy around your friends
finally talk on the phone about something other than a car accident
keep you and ignore what you say about you being dysfunctional
not able to do relationships, can't commit or owe
i'm being selfish aren't i, but that's okay it's all i've ever known how to be.
the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn