Her

You are wrapped in her arms,
Lying in her sheets and her bed,
But she is not me, can't you see?
I'm the one wrapped in your head,

A twisted mountain of green thought,
You lie, moaning in pleasures throws,
Flesh bare, flushed with red blood,
Entangled limbs above a floor of clothes,

Finished now you're left cold and broken,
The guilt rattles around your sunken brain,
Pulsing through the memories,
Turning you from lonely to insane,

Don't rush to tell me you're sorry,
I have no right to accept -
I still sleep on soundly,
While you are the one that wept.