statistics

give me a hopeless tragedy,
replete with agony and anguish and
ear-splitting screams.
give me shards of glass
cutting every corporeal surface they can find
on me and bone-breaking and muscle-tearing
and heartbreaking violence.
let me slip
on blood and get drenched with the internal
guts of the human body; I ask for gory, bloody
trauma.
take away every happiness, every moment
flooded with liquid sunshine,
every gleaming joy, every glistening experience.
just, please
give me a reason to justify all this
anger and sadness trapped inside,
howling, augmenting, feeding,
peeling my skin one layer at a time.
please, I beg, I beg, I beg,
give me a reason to become
a victim
and not
a statistic.