What she said.

WHAT SHE SAID.
sneak

She says I'm a whore when I'm drinking.
Sulking, I ask what she means.
She says I'm a lecherous pervert.
Her words paint such beautiful scenes.
I'm gently persuaded to listen.
Her sobering voice takes the floor.
I plan my escape from the carnage,
as I realise we'll soon be at war.
I'm told of the nights misdemeanours.
My memory isn't so clear.
She says I'm unworthy of her love.
I say I could do with a beer.
Apparently I'm in denial.
She rants as I try not puke.
She says that I dance like a mad man.
And demands to know what I took.
'You need to relax just a little'
'Relax? That's a laugh!', she replied.
'If it wasn't for my intervention -
you could have so easily died'
She paused as my memory cleared.
Like the sun slaying clouds from the sky.
Last night I thought I was her hero.
'You'll believe that a loser can fly!'
Scaling the heights of the chip shop.
Whistling the superman theme.
Between me and deaths gruesome fingers,
the chill of her terrified scream.
She says I should get my head sorted.
She smiles as I coyly agree.
She doesn't want dead superhero's.
Insanely, she wants only me.

sneak