ONE NIGHT STAND

What story can i tell you now,

That you haven’t heard before?

Should I tell you how I’m lucky, misunderstood?

Maybe shed a tear, and roll into your arms, be inside you one more time?

What excuses do I still have in my back pocket

To justify the waste I’ve made of the life I live?

I can’t even call it living anymore…

I’ve run out of excuses, of hesitations, of explanations.

I’ve flung all my crap at the mirror.

And I’ve laughed at my own face.

Shame? That I do know.

Perhaps I could tell you about that as you stretch

Your arms over your head and let your breasts slide to your side.

I could tell you about wanting to die everyday, mortified

Of being who I am.

Could I convince you with that?’

Would I want to?

Or can we just skip over all that dreadful nonsense

And just fall asleep already?

Then, tomorrow, I can creep out, and disappear,

And you can wash me out, as you cry.