At Night

I'm lying here, Wearing today's face.
I really tried to paint perfection.
-And I am lying beside you.

Night after night,
Goes just like this.
I will analyse our day,
And question if you love me..
Because how would I know, right?

I lie there having craved affection,
And left, untouched.
I wanted my lipstick ruined,
And my bra thrown on the floor..
Yet here I lie,
My unnoticed artwork still intact.
Am I better than this?

To reach a point of questioning myself,
Would I be happier, if you left?
And I think this every night,
While you sleep.
-because you don't mind sleeping,
After arguments..

Like a doll, still and pretty,
Innocent and empty.
At some point tonight,
my eyes will become heavy..

-And you will great me in the morning,
As if nothing ever happened.

Reviews

[Sir Drift & Mr. Pulse]

Ah, but do things happen, do arguments not converge into the silly strings of words that really werent even said? They erase with the eraser that never was and fly away looking for a flower to seep on just to come back nice and sweet tasting into our lips. And a kiss? No need to part the lips that have already slept on the body, untouched you say? Take a look at the mark left from yesterday, the day before, nothing? Well... at least I thought of it.

But please, do wake me when it all ends... x