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