birthday bash(ed)

i made the mistake of getting
my body and mind drunk--on my birthday--and
then cruising through my phone book stopping
several times along the way.
i feel like an idiot. . .he doesn't care for me,
but i insist on trying to change his mind.
why? why? why?
I called back some 12 hours later to apologize
to his voicemail.
Then i busied myself with reading, writing, painting.
a masterpiece in green.
"remember me."
The return phone call. My body enters a
nervous state: sweaty palms, mumbling mouth.
Nervous voiced overlapping, questioning, questioning.
Nervous disconnect, and left with an awkward
unaccomplished feeling.
damn it! damn it!
I can see myself moving toward some dark place ahead,
but my arms don't stretch far enough to pull me back.