The recluse

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

home.