I’m jealous of your bed For it gets to hold you In its clutches Instead of me I’m jealous of your sheets They take the place of my arms and legs And tangle around your sleepy self That should be me If it weren’t for the minute details I tend to miss (I don’t plan ahead…) Like work in the AM Or a change of clothes Or a toothbrush I would have stayed And slept Sinking into you and that ******* bed That holds you hostage