"In Your Bed, In My Head"

[Greggie]

I wrote this for the married man who I desperately want but will never take. Feedback would be lovely

 

IN YOUR BED, IN MY HEAD

 

I just got home from his fancy place

Makeup and self-loathing smeared onto my face

And you're not on me, not even one cell

Whilst he's everywhere, my skin is his smell

 

I can smell his being intertwined with my hair

I can smell his lust and I can't even care

Talk of self respect, talk of hatred

When all I'm wondering is, "Will we make it?"

 

And if we do, what does that entail?

The double life you lead comes out unlevel on the scale

Numbers, measures, percentage and scores

I have you less and I think of you more

 

I think of you now, I thought of you then

I tried to envision you again and again

It didn't bear fruits, reality stayed real

His unwanted touch made an unloving steal

 

And yes it's true, there was something lost

I can't quite describe it but I worry of its cost

Was it me? Was it you? Was it us?

Was it my happiness? Is life that unjust?

 

But justice for me isn't justice for her

It isn't justice for him, and not for you, I'm quite sure

You talk of your life as if it's all said and done

And see my own as only begun

 

But I cannot be your fountain of youth

I cannot be your lie as she remains your truth

I cannot be half-hearted, I can only be whole

I have too much to give you, an entire soul

 

So walk home to your house, be with your wife

Know that having me will not give you my life

For isn't it true? Isn't that what I've seen?

In your eyes infatuation intertwined with specks of green

 

We are so different, there lies the appeal

But loving me will not my character steal

You cannot become what you never will be

I can never be you, you can never be me

 

So what do you miss and how can I give it?

You talk so much of life but not once think to live it

I'm not your saviour, nor are you mine

Though you once were my happiness for a splinter of time

 

And the memory stays for me a guilded treasure

In the darkest of darks it's my guilty pleasure

I'm aware it's not my right to make you my claim

I'm aware it's not my right, but I did it just the same

 

And oceans did move and moments were made

But as the oceans stayed the same, the moments did fade

I desperately clung to them with an unwavering grip

The oceans kept moving, the moments would slip

 

I would love to have them back but not at any price

I think that to like myself again would be nice

She is just a name, one not too often said

But she exists nonetheless, in your bed, in my head