by Stacey-Ann McAllister
My body's turning against me.
My mind's losing control.
Heavy breathing,
my feelings aren't cold;
now they're hot,
pulsing heat
I never knew I'd feel again.
Layers peel away against a stranger's bed.
Hold on,
wait a minute.
My past is fading,
and I'm not in it.
Leave some time to catch up to my mistakes.
Make new heartbreaks
to dull the pangs of old.
His fingers travel,
and in terror, I close my eyes.
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I'm pretty sure poetry is allowed? I hope so, since I don't really have the time to sit down and write out any stories yet, let alone silly poems =/