Lover Comfort

I suppose it’s a bit uncomfortable when you’re not comfortable.

Comfort – that thing that embraces your body and kisses your forehead, whispering for you to stay, just a little longer, just a little longer… And you do stay, that extra fifteen minutes. Then you find yourself staying for lunch and, why, you might as well stay the weekend too and hey, you know what, I really like having you around (and I can tell you like my company too), so why don’t you just move right in? It doesn’t have to be permanent. Leave whenever you like…you can always come back.

And with that, Lover Comfort has you trapped. You’ve move in and now you’re pregnant.


Unwrap your arm from around my waist, give me back my bra – I’m leaving you today! Lover Comfort, I’m going someplace else, somewhere I can be free and feel the cold wind prickle my bare shoulders and smell the stench of poverty as it wafts by. Somewhere I can sense the sting of tears drying onto chapped cheeks. Today is the day I leave you behind; today is the first day of something new.

Uncomfortable? Yes, Lover Comfort, that it will be. Let your fingers trail over my back one last time. Put out your incense – it’s making me feel sick. I’m closing your bedroom door behind me. I’m outside now, in the wind and the rain.

It’s not very comfortable. But, Lover Comfort, I do feel alive.