tonight: drink a good beer with me in the quiet of your place and let me fall asleep. may this panic pass by knowing you’ll be here. do you need it tonight? you ask, gently, I’m sure, for this is not the first time, or the second or third… there must be another way. you know I’m crying for this because I musn’t deprive, and I promised to give up the blade. so what next? how long until I lower my exotic standards just to get more and more? I know you don’t want me to go there, and I know that’s why you’re asking. and maybe I’m aware of the road I always take, but I still need to trust that your ears and shoulders and strong arms are enough to palliate the pain.