the authors make themselves welcome in my bedroom to console my aching heart.
I'm down with the flu stuffed up with my feelings for you.
It's better out than in when you spit it out,
have you ever watched a 5 month old baby sleep, then something gets caught in their nose, that soft face turns pink and wrinkled like a pug, the baby holds a breath, about to cry,
that was me last night,
but then the baby's countenance is as peaceful as a cloud
and once you get it out that awkward feeling of release as the congestion subsides,
and I held onto the warm memory of you
to help me get to sleep.