Carpet burn on my elbow and nothing but an empty pack of fags to hold the attention of my bored fingers

I watch the TV blear past my chipped nails

And don't think of how you pushed me down as you went up

The hairs lift at the back of my neck

I breathe a sort breath

As I think of us together

I turn my face away from the discarded clothes

The sofa irritates my skin and I twitch from one ass check to the other leaning on my arm to the other

Tucking my legs under me then sitting on my ass again

I tap my fingers on the arm of the chair

Digging what nails I have and scrapping the fabric

I breathe in the air fast and harsh hoping that I might taste my last fag in the air

I don't and I turn back to the TV

You're still asleep on the floor

Your hair almost cover the hole of your back

I don't want to wake you

You sleep like a child calm your eyelids flick I try not to imagine what you're dreaming

I pull my t-shirt on I almost feel dressed

With purple pants and a yellow t-shirt

You stir but don't wake

This room pulls at my brain

I notice a burn mark on the sofa

The clock ticking

The slight humming of the TV

Your rested breathes

Want to run I hate this silence I find my self-hating you and your restfulness

How can you sleep when all I can do is think?

I feel each minute becoming a weight I have to put up with because you're asleep

Part of my want to kick you awake

Like your some bike that failed me and all I can do is kick you

You lift and eye lid and ask me something about the last fag

I smile at you as I move my tongue around and taste it strongly