was my body not the skeletal version of your own?
how i wish i could write like i used to.
if you'd like me to stop trying to lose, i will not.
perhaps i can't do it 'cause you've inspired me less,
because i have not yet been hurt.

is it masochism to wish for pain, if it means creativity?
perhaps i am wrong: if i take the reins we will surely fall.
i only want success for us, but i only want you to destroy me.
this battle is hardly worth fighting for if i can't make up which side i'm not.
like comfort, you spread over me and keep me quiet.
like indecision, i will not make it.