She lay on his chest, breathing heavily
Exhausted from that empty sex
Sweat drips off her temple into his chest
Mixed with tears of sin,
But he has no idea she's crying
He asks:
"What is this? We're a fucking mess"
She states firmly, without lifting her head:
"It's just sex."
Another tear falls on to his skin
Mixes with his sweat,
A concoction almost as filthy as what was just accomplished in that bed
For two people who didn't believe in god,
They were deep in hell
She continues, in the same, tearful tone:
"Empty sex between two broken people
Both painfully stressed, equally depressed.
Two people who acquired a filthy hobby
Just to give their heads a rest
Because the voices don't subside
And this is the only way we know to calm them down."
He argues:
"YOU calm me down."
Feels her usually stone cold, emotionless face turn into a smile, then falls blank again.
She refutes:
"You think that now
But when the sound of my moaning ceased to exist,
You won't be here"
He asks her:
"Why are you so scared?
Why is being loved such a huge fear?"
Another tear
Her heart tears.
Her voice cracks:
"I loved the boy with the silky hair
And the blue green eyes
that made even the brightest skies look dark.
Yours are just shit brown.
I loved the one with an anxious mind
And heavy heart.
You are empty."
He questions her desperately:
"Do you love me?"
She responds:
"I love what we do."
Starts bawling,
crawls out from the filthy sheets they lay in
"I fell in love once.
With a touch that was tender, full of trust, loving.
And while this rough sex is great
It's loveless and lustful,
And in reality, we're only fucking."
