lack of caring lack of sharing lack of people to repair mental dings ego is bruised by an unused muse whose body was willing but mind was wailing stale things have more of a crunch like relationships and chips for lunch it's just a hunch so don't be scared pretenses melt when the chest is bared tickling, touching, gentle, ****** simply subsides into being psychotic pulling on ropes with no safety word the thought of a tear is merely absurd no sadness or pain only pleasure in here dungeon underground to ease the fear of normalcy that comes over thee when life becomes a rut in which the feet are stuck trench foot caused by stagnant living mud falls in and it's just not giving