Song of Remorse

There is no start
I learnt the art
of pick-pocketing
your heart
whilst, at a party, you laid in repose
vulnerability all exposed

I wanted you
free of judgement
free of clothes
but you just laid there
drunkness all exposed

I kissed you once
but I was surrounded by cunts
who 'oohed' and 'aahed'
(your girlfriend, doubling as guard).
It could've been worse, I suppose
you just laid there, blue eyes all exposed.

Theere is no story
because there is no glory
there's this crying corpse
choked on remose
but that's all,
that's all.

I laid there, ventricles all exposed.