​​​​Green Grass And High Tides

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I wish I were on AIDS drugs.
I wish I were alternative,
Then everyone would look to my doldrums,
For the comfort of knowing something else existed,
That there was something left to do,
Be it their burden, or someone else’s.
I would be special.

 

I wish someone would care about
Not only what I thought, but how I arrived there.

In the smattering of approaches, I would like to stand out,
I would like to be useful, not just feel used, then
I would be special.

If all wasn’t as it appeared,
except me,
I would be special.
I would be me.