dreams

sometimes you tell me
about her and her friends
and her dreams
her dreams are the worst;
because I dream too
yet you never think about them
not my dreams
you say
'how awful'
or something like that
and that's it

but when you talk about her dreams
you've thought about them
and you've given her
your response
input
I want that response
so I try to seem
normal even though
I swallow a hard lump
and it's itching in my throat
and makes my eyelids
corrode a bit

I think about her dreams too
not too seldom
since I'm so jealous
I wish I could dreams like her
like that
so I could catch
your interest
and you would
talk to me
and feel
and I would hear it
in your voice
I would be happy so happy
that you'd care

though I think that my reality
perhaps is worse than
her nightmares
'cause sometimes
my socks merge with
my skin
and I have to tear
the cloth from my flesh
and oh god it hurts
so much but I don't
want to scream
when someone could
hear me

I want you to want to hear me