I want images - breasts, thighs, lips, hips of other girls to paste atop yours 'cause I can't peel you off my mind.    Haunted by that beautiful face, I fear and yearn and rage. I want to kill myself again, and again, I can't for the same reason as Nietzsche, when he went to that brothel and kept knocking on a mirror  with his head.   We are so fucking alone and spent  we don't even truly have our selves left  to hurt.     - Mukta 'Asraar' © Mukta Asnikar