sometimes i end up leaving and
wishing i had done a few things differently,
like what if i had ran back over to you and
spilled my guts onto the asphalt,
what would you have said?

if i had followed my gut in the beginning,
i could have saved myself a lot of misery.
although, isn't it important to experience misery?
to mold yourself into something better,
a thing that knows now what is what
and what isn't nice.

bitter, better, greater, lesser
a being made of elastic flesh and split ends
soft to the touch but hard inside
feeling delicate, sharp like a knife,
willing to cut deep.
i would love to cut deep into you.

"everything you say is so formal"