You're asleep now, drifting in and out of
dreamland.
And I?
I have been awake.
It was two hours ago that I lay my head
down.
And two hours ago that you indulged yourself.
Fantasyland.
I lay and I listen to your footsteps.
I lay and I listen to doors closing.
Lock.
And there was silence.
Not so much the fact you haven't come
to bed.
Though, rather, you are partaking in something
other than me.
You beckon me to lie with you other days,
and I commit.
Frustration on my part if I am not there
with you.
As I lay, you aren't here, and I
wonder.
I can't slumber, though pretend I do,
and wonder.
You have this darker side you hide from me,
that which I do not understand.
I'll never know, I realize, what it is you do
but perverted my mind is by this.
Internet slum and muted porn
is what you sneak in here for.
Four sheets bath tissue, one swift
movement.
I am wrought with confusion, unable
to decipher emotion...
to say just how I feel about this.
"You're incomparable."
My feminist's side is raging out, while my
lover's side is staying silent.
"Porn makes me feel less of a woman to you."
"You give me everything I need."
Not everything you want
I'm afraid.
So you stealthily find a moment in darkness,
and indulge yourself.
I lay and I listen to defeat and humiliation,
radiating from my heart to my willing
ear.
"I will never add up to that." |