a broken clock is right twice a day (hands of fools gold)

i beg, i choose, i lose. the bark is loud but the bite is pathetic at best. i get mean only like a kicked puppy does and i take what i can get. even if theres not the same desperation for love and for touch behind his kiss on my neck as there is behind the way i brush his hand with mine. give my nerves a fever and soothe them with an icepack in the same breath despite the hitch. fake it til you fall or rise to the top, it doesnt make a difference to me. but pretending like it doesnt matter wont make it disappear. remember that.