Mistress cellophane

You didn't notice me when I walked in the room.  That's ok, I'm used to it.  Sit down on the bed, open my computer, try to find solace in the virtual world.  You make it look oh so easy.
Remember tonight, man-boys buying me drink after drink, me insisting that I am Taken for good.  After all that, you're feet and worlds away from me here.
My stomach turns, the sick is coming-I can feel it. 

Somehow, tonight I just want to be loved.  Turn and toss-toss and turn.  Tonight I feel restless, tonight I feel wild.  Sitting there, your eyes on the screen, I could toss myself out the window and you wouldn't bother to blink.  So maybe tonight I shall do just that.

"Want anything?"  Not a murmur or mumble in response.  The kitchen is cold, I shift my weight in a ridiculous dance while I wait for the microwave to buzz it's tired finale.  Hot soup burning the taste off my tongue.  You don't glance up at my return.  I balance the soup on top of the weeks of junk on your table, standing sentinel beside your chair.  You look up, annoyed at my apparent interest.  Your expression doesn't change as the cold serrated metal slips between your ribs.  Your last moments on earth will be spent wishing you could just level your alchemy already. 

I turn, ignoring the spluttering as YOU taught me to.  If you're lucky, I will notice you in an hour.

If you're lucky.