Sheesh.

I'm drunk and sitting on the edge of my seat.
The winter snow blows outside, it slows time and keeps me occupied.
Snow falls on the hill. Snow falls on the lane.
I am tired.  
 
The night is filled with bitter and champagne. I litter the room with my presence, curl up in the absence of seeing you.
I lay unable to sleep, and suffering slightly.
I get off on the irritation.  
I get off on the dissatisfaction in my bones.
I bite my pillow.
My body writhes within itself.
My every nerve explodes on the appreciation of your scent on clothes, missing your slender shape in my bed.
 
Infuriating and retching and rinsing my skin of your cells now seems impossible. Once it was because once I didn't know you. How infuriating these bonds and attachments we as humans make!  
It's all seconds and minutes and hours now.
I'm curling my toes. I can't sleep and I'm drunk.