It feels comforting
apathetic until a situation reaches a point of extreme despair
Merciless, the story goes and it feels great to never really be here
I am morally culpable
and you only have the slightest idea
Paranoid about the evolution of my feelings
or lack there of, could take
I'm a walking contradiction
So I lick the nipples of perfection
turn around and bury my face in the belly of the beast
or wherever I think it belongs the most