stuck,
feeling a little fucky.

like i need a good ****
                    a good talk
                     a good beating.

how do you ask of your lover?
please make me cry.

dumb,
dubious of myself again,
making promises of possible futures
but words are words are words are words anything?

how am i real without bruises?
where are the things that i desire?
i want to hurt so bad that i forget i am alive.
probably a little loopy on the damage,
on the lovin,
on the lackin.