I wake alone
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in a woman's room I hardly know.
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I wake alone
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and pretend that I am finally home.
|
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The room is littered
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with her books and notebooks
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I imagine what they say, like,
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"Shoo fly don't bother me."
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I can hardly get myself out of the bed
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for fear of never lying in this bed again.
|
|
Oh Christ, I'm not that desperate.
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Oh no, oh God. I am.
|
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How'd I end up here to begin with?
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I don't know.
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Why do I start what I can't finish?
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Oh please don't barrage me
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with the questions
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to all those ugly answers.
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My ego's like my stomach,
|
it keeps shitting what I feed it.
|
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But maybe I don't want to finish anything anymore.
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Maybe I can wait in bed 'til she comes home
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and whispers,
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"You're in my web now,
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I've come to wrap you up tight
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'til it's time to bite down."
|
|
I wake alone
|
in a woman's room I hardly know.
|
I wake alone
|
and pretend that I am finally home.
|
|
-----------------
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The Recluse
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Cursive |