Records melt as the past
Turns over in Her bed,
"Listen to me you lousy lay!
I made you what you are and
Without me, whatever you do
Will be nothing! HEAR YOU ME!
NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING."

The sign read do not disturb, but
At the time I wasn't able to read.
I didn't know how and I was not
Ashamed of it.

She screamed this as I left and the mirror
That lay beside her bed was covered
In half eaten french fries and a
Short leopard skirt with a tear down
The right side; it appeared she had done
It and I was surprised by both her taste
In clothes as well as her rage and strength;
I had never met anyone that so closely
Resembled my brother Patrick before.

As I closed the door, I heard a loud SMACK
Against the wood. "Perhaps a hairdryer?" I
whispered to myself, the other tenants of
The motel now coming out of their rooms
Trying to see what the hell was going on.
"It's nothing," I told them, "I entered the
Wrong room and it was my fault and
I feel terrible, everything is fine."

Another loud BANG against the wooden
Door occurred and a screech," NO
IT **** WELL ISN'T NOTHING YOU
PEEPING ******* TOM!"
The other tenants eyed me down as they
Closed their doors to call the police.

Mistakes are made and remembered and
Forgotten and memorized and go down
In history everyday, but it's the ones
That involve loud bangs and screeches
From women you wished you could have
Gotten to know better that always count.