I woke up this morning alone, reeking of cheap whiskey, my satin sheets clinging to the clamminess of my naked body. I tried desperately to ward off thoughts of seeing you and her the night before heading home to lie comfortably in each other's arms. Her hands outlining your face, running along your chest and up to your shoulders as you fell asleep. I almost felt the kiss you gave her as you said goodnight, sending a sting to my lips and branding me helpless to the burning bottle within my grasp.
Meet me at the Hotel Jupiter so you can revitalize these empty, passionless arms and take away the hangover that spells out my self-destruction from the night before. Meet me at the Hotel Jupiter so that in one room, in one moment I can pretend to be whatever you need, or want, or desire. Meet me at the Hotel Jupiter so I can forever wrap myself around visions on the pillows where deep red and stark white danced in my head.