Maybe You Will Fall In Love Tomorrow

You hurt.
You make me feel sexy.

Even when our sweat has spread my lipstick all over my face,
your face, chest and sheets
The sole sight of you makes me want to crash into a wall.
I will always have time to waste on you.

It started when I was hungover
And it lingered on.
The clothes are back on,
I suddenly feel surprised when
the void settles in my soul.

Well, ‘soul’.

Fascination for the poison.

I seek comfort in the emptiness of your words
Lager induced flirt.

I am not willing to be swept away by that shitstorm

(again)

Lucidity, lucid stupidity.

Refueling myself on coffee and bad decisions.
I keep filling pages with words, in vain.

The comedown from my endless performances
has intoxicated me with inevitable loneliness.