Your words determine how and when I'll sleep
Such power in your inconsistent praise
Or lackthereof, depending on your week
By weekend's time you taint me with malaise
This pattern of sporadic love is set
Refuting my hopes to stay close to you
And I spend my nights cleaning your regrets
Which linger nearby like molding mildew;
Is my sex unequal to your mistress?
Did his birthday invent new excuses?
Are you fully aware of the distress?
I feel lonely, uncertain and useless
Goodnight misleads me to abandoned sleep -
Wishing it were not the end of the week
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