It was a broken bedroom
No ceilings nor walls, just an empty bed full of scars
The floor was cracking, and the vinyl was scratching
Eyes were capturing, bodies were *******
While the smoke seduced itself between the crevices
Of my womanhood, I was getting lost in the way you would
Light up the whisky and inhale the wood flavored elixir
Out of my own mouth, I was framing our burnt cigarettes
In this broken bedroom, I was hanging up our addictions
In this no-walled bedroom, even if they hung crookedly like our hearts
They maintained their humanity the same way our bodies did when met during the zenith
Of a thousand stars, and I… was your scientist.
Trying to search every why and how of everything that made you. Enthralled in forming your hypothesis, you were an -ology waiting to be ****** by discovery and curiosity. I was willing, but you were leaving while staying in this trembling hotel room.
Room 713… you called for room service and I brought you what you needed. The coffee wasn't compatible with the taste of your tongue. Nothing could be done.
As we spoke over Lucille’s cry, your hands chose to dance by themselves. And here I was wishing my body would be the dance floor, one last time.
Everything we did was always the last time. And here I was, trying to make sure they lasted enough for you to stay.