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I could hear you coming so I hid by the couch.
You were talking so loudly, I don't know what about.
You were drunker than high school, self-conscious and sweet.
I never ever felt so cool disguised in your sheets.
But I'm a constant headache, a tooth out of line.
They try to make you regret it, you tell them, no not this time.
It's just a constant headache, a dead friend's advice.
You hang me up, unfinished with the better part of me no longer mine.
And then you finally found me, pretending to sleep.
You said such nice things about me, I felt guilty and cheap.
You took two steps to the kitchen, and just stared at the sink.
I couldn't hold back a smile, I still wish I could have seen you-
Having sex in the morning, your love was foreign to me.
It made me think maybe human is not such a bad thing to be.
But I just laid there in protest, entirely fucked.
It's such a stubborn reminder one perfect night's not enough.
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