It holds me…at arm’s length.
Its charms are transitory.
Like a rat.
It has one eye open waiting for when I open my eyes
So I don’t look down there.
The truth lies under the carpet.
To avoid it, I am tripping high then low.
I can forget it but I can’t stamp on it,
It moves like a little mouse under there
In my underwear.
I’m not lonely, I’m alone
(But sometimes I am lonely
-f-o-r- with the truth.)
It comes and it goes and it can sting or bite or pad me,
That’s when it comes booty calling
To wake me and fuck me
No afterglow. No glow (wham!)
Just me and 3am (Bam!)
And the truth (Thank you ma’am!)
Truth is like a buzzing fly in my ear.
Right for spite.
But I’m not lonely sleeping alone
I’m only lonely -f-o-r- with the truth,
Alice Smith currently dating 3am