I’m not sure why

I don’t know whats spinning around your head, so you decide not to come to bed,

but I’m not scared to bear the truth, there’s nothing there to bother you.

Imaginary monsters claw at your snores and i am unable to combat that.

I’m nothing but a bore to you and with every huff and puff and spat,

each squint of the eyes i think to myself,

‘He’s mad but never cries,

he’s not fussed if he loses me; it’s the security that precludes him from existing with,

or without me.’

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