drunk butterfly

The other woman in your life has a sinister sense of humour.
Sometimes I lie awake at night and catch a glimpse of her making love to you as I sleep.
I travel to the other side of bed
Feeling sick that I can’t make you sweat like her. Your expression, dreamy and light
While I silently cry to an untitled track
That spells the story of my life…
The moonlight drips in.
How come I never heard this tune before?
I turn to wake you, yet you are cold and weak.
You–who think you, are stronger than I.
And I await you with a soaked towel for your head
and a kiss for a swollen tongue.