She woke up on the right side of the bed
even though it was the wrong bed.
A euphoric release from his touch,
such a familiar, yet disconnected feeling.
How lucky to feel wanted.
But the feelings of ecstasy fade,
An abrupt comedown
from her contact high.
She relapsed on her image of poetic irony
as she’s filled to the brim with emptiness
from throwing herself to loveless lovers.
Her fickle heart is alluring, they say.
Don’t men love the chase?
She doesn’t mean to harm.
But all the same,
She’ll wake up in an unfamiliar place
while repeating her vicious cycle.
Like a black widow, she uses men
to fill her void…
…only to rip their hearts out in the morning