Is this real, or is this a dream? Can you truly be all that you seem? Or are you another, too good to be true, Who will leave as soon as you find someone new? Was it safe to open my heart, Or were you only playing a part? When you held me, was it real, Or was I the only one to feel? Was that night just a mistake Or was it real? Am I awake?
The white noise spreads its maddening sound-silhouette through the gently flickering room. But I'm fucked if I can be bothered to switch off the television. Here I am again, sprawled sideways on the couch, tongue swollen and tasting like an ashtray soaked in vodka. Mouth hanging open like I'm trying to catch moisture out the air to stop me shriveling up. My name's Grace, and I'm sitting here in my ex's t-shirt because I can't be stuffed to wash some clothes that don't make me cringe. The only other thing he gave me was a black eye, anyway. That didn't go too well with the blue shirt. The room's a dank