Looking at this from another angle;
My head hanging off the seat
While lying on my couch,
Heels and toes upon the wall
I noted the rug burns on my feet.
Now they’re just wee scars,
Each a permanent epiphany.
Corpus meum loquentem
I understand it now,
They’re like my tattoo diary.
I thought you were fulfilling me;
The void involved was never just mine.
You were far from home and lonely.
We were replenishing each other
In that brief snapshot of time.
You were genuinely vulnerable
Yet played it off like game.
I pretended we had a foundation
Not a temporary respite,
And I’ve only myself to blame.