Bone Machine: Part 2

Where Is My Mind - Pixies

You wake up the morning after. The pounding, blinding, screaming soaring headache pounding against your eyelids is enough to stop you from getting to the toilet, and if that wasn't problem enough, you currently have your legs and arms and body intwined.
With a girl.
And so the memories come flooding back - last night, the laughter, the forest green, the Smashing Pumpkins and god, did you take like 100 shots? So you pull yourself away from this girl, this sleeping carcass, green loving, half-Mexican hellcat, and stumble to the bathroom.
You look long enough in the mirror to realize you are naked.
You look long enough in the mirror to realize what you did last night.
This takes place in a total of .85 seconds, you applaud yourself for a job well done.
Opening the cabinet, you grab the little red capsules, pour four out into your hand and down them without water.
Why not just walk back and take a second peak?
Even when you aren't wasted, you can tell she's gorgeous. Beautiful. The way the sunlight casts against her bare figure as she's covered in your Power Ranger sheets is enough to send you back into bed with her, to sleep for a few more hours, to wake up and make her breakfast.
Instead, you grab a piece of paper and a Mariott Hotel pen, the one you stole because you can, and write down an excuse for you being gone for a few hours.
You place it on your nightstand, you place your socks on your feet, your jeans over your jegs, your shirt over you torso.
You place your mind over your heart, and you leave.
Let's see how long you can stay away until she leaves.

This is the endless cycle.