Stuck in bed once again,
A shame to say the least, but I,
always wake up to good company,
the love of my life.
Like a needle in the vain,
sometimes a small quick pain.
But long term, my love belongs to her.
How I could meet someone to feel,
not only this way about or this comfortable
with.

The teenage struggle of no eye contact,
disappeared.
******* seeming like a chore more then a pleasure,
gone.
The sincere textures in this relationship,
weave a Mac Demarco tee which like my relationship,
I hope not to lose or misplace.

She owns my heart, she is my blood.
She knows she's smart,
My brains filled with sludge.

As every other morning,
I wake up to A hug, a kiss.
Affection yearned since an extreme loss.
Supplied by a girl whom breathes my
personal bliss.

Through anxiety's loss,
I entered a shop,
And was introduced to my new friend,
Ambien
We couldn't keep our hands off each other,
So I kissed her twice before leaving the store.
We then went on a little walk, I wanted to know more about her but I really had to read into it.

We arrived home at my girlfriends house,
Surprisingly, to my luck, everybody enjoyed Ambien being around.
She gave everybody a good laugh,
And seemed always warm and
welcoming to the point,
in which we would become confused.

One evening after spending too much
time with Ambie.  My brain began to,
ooze and melt from too much affection.
Arguing with walls,
countless eyes, all staring at me.
Talking to ghosts,
asking them to leave.

As I woke up that night,
I looked to my right.
To realize Amber had left me.
Going through casual short terms monthly.
I still find pieces of her, and I'm clueless   Do I ingest or understand that the past is the past.

Am I more comfortable now or was I too comfortable then?