I don't dream of her
But I do.
I really don't want to.

She shows up sometimes,
I get excited, turned on.
But I am reminded,
Your good days are far gone.

Always and never.
Two words of weight.
With you,
I prefer hate.

The needle tore a hole two nights ago,
I didn't bite my tongue.
But it stung.

And bled. Slightly.
The lines lead
     to more lines,
Each was easier. Slightly.

And when I walked away for the night,
Come day I was clean.
And now I wear short sleeves.
Cause they can ask me "Did it Hurt?"
     And I will say "Ask Reznor, not Cash."