Foreign To My Bed

I find myself talking to you when you’re not there
holding blankets closer to me and imagine your arms instead

I am trash. Is that why you want me?
I find you at my door, three in the morning, telling me how much you’re into seeding
and hope I’m down; well, honey, you don’t have to tell me
’cause you know, you know, you know, you know
I like my bottoms freaky

Pretend with me for a minute
At least try to appear like you don’t want to go
Kiss me in the mouth like you’re trying to take my soul to go with you

Moan for me
We’ll share the weight of our individual loneliness together
and – clearly – apart
Pretend with me
for just a minute
plant your flags into my skull

I don’t think I’ve ever truly written about love
I only want your filth
Come join the long line of exes who left me because I like fucking way too much