Constant Imperfection

I wish I could just stand up and scream my already weak lungs till blood projects from my agape mouth.  I wish to get in my truck and speed off into the horizon; no one wants me here, no one needs me, no one will ever be there for me like I was there for them.  I wish I could drive, drive, drive, till the massive gas tank runs dry and the elegant beast sputters and releases its final roar.  The dragon ceases shooting flames that provide such comfort; once again I’m alone in this world.  As I sit on the bleak curb staring to the morphing sky; light begins to change to night and I am being welcomed into my own element.  I look back to my truck resting so peacefully in slumber its eyes starring back at me and a sleek smile on its chrome face.  I am the world’s Constant Imperfection.  I am the deceased and crusted fly on the world's windshield.  I am the bird that world shot down and left to die.  I am the scab on the world’s elbow.  I am the world’s bloodshot eyes that never seem to get clearer.  I am the salt on the worlds open wound.  I am the black whole slowly dragging to world to its inevitable doom.  Tell me that I am wrong; tell me that you do care.  Lie to me; go ahead.  I know you want to.  Sorry I’m not as dense as you; I know the truth and I can vividly see it.  Silver tears streak down my blue bruised cheek.  My deep red eyes stare off into the night.  I have found my safe haven in my own mind.  Leave me out of yours.  I will only bring you down with me.  Maybe I should rid this world of this Constant Imperfection.