Witness

Here I am, under the sheets with you.
There you are, shuddering.
Here I am, thinking on what to do.
There you are, singing some song, stuttering.

Basically, here we are, being us.
You, the delicate flower.
Me, Satan’s reincarnation.
Us, forming hell together.
Victims of our own lust.

You don’t complain, you sing along.
I smoke a cigarette, thinking where I went wrong.
This romance, so disgusting.
This love, so revolting.

But what’s important, is this bed.
Those satin red sheets kept many things hidden.
Something for the sick minds of people begging to be fed.
But your eyes left me to know, that they to be mentioned were forbidden.