Look what I found:

"are you awake?" she wonders, "are you even alive?" she is lying in drunken wisdom and you are the word on her lips.

Makes sense i guess. A stranger's sorrow lines her bed while
she finds refuge across town - a cycle - an unending twist.

Great.

Guilt is unreserved as she whispers
to a strange pillow, tucked up in someone else's bed.

Where do we go from here? Nowhere but up. Smooth sideswipes...