Fuck the pretention. It would be nice to stripped, ugly, raw, just a piece of bloody flesh. It would be swell. You know, whimpering aloud - wanting to be hated or loved. Even as my tongue trips over redundant pieces of talk, the same, the same, the same all the time - I feel okay, because I see the complacent cushioning that I snuggle up against. And I sleep okay at night.
You're a happy thought on a restless day, V. Sometimes I wish you weren't such a bastard and I wasn't such a fool. But I'm glad anyway. Let's ride together somewhere someday.

(Sudu try not to roll your eyes - remember I'm only 13).