hurt feelings in tattoo music,
because of something nice.
the importance of living,
but sorry for trying, really.
after shower, scared,
and she is predictable.
staying up until midnight
so I can try to cry in found silence.
her, the world,
the sickness, love.
it all swirls in my brain
like a tidal soup let loose.
expanding and contracting until
it pours out pores, mouth and more.
don't know what to do,
yet know exactly what I want.
am I selfish,
or am I passion?