out with it
you win
i'm at your tender mercies now
humiliated and hungry for more
hating selves secretly
with many miles to go
before any so-called final blow
and i'm aching masochistic

filthy-
call me baby

my great misfortune
i'm not good enough
even for myself.
between love and blood
i've always bought my own drinks.

be quiet and good
you're my favourite song
good morning to the bugs
and bicycle rides