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Losing Youth II
The Poppy Chronicles.
Losing Youth II
There's a photobooth.
It's cramped
with three of us laughing and hitting and shouting and spacing and floating and zoning--
He squeezes my hand
and we're alone again...
where was the photobooth?
We're in his room with the posters of pierced, nude girls
and the lines of perfect, tupic spliffs.
He pays no attention as his eyes float hazily around space.
Where is the parental guilt
while he is guilding my hand down his dirty, blue jeans to those black boxers hiding his bulge?
I'm inside, and my hand's shaking, and I'm not sure what I am meant to do.
My pulse is racing, there is sweat on my palms, it is standing, I don't want to hurt it, I don't want to do it wrong, he's guiding--
I feel so embarrased.
"Sh."
One finger over my mouth as he slides his pale, warm, manly, soft hand inside my shirt and
with two fingers tweaks a hardening nipple.
I didn't know anyone could stur that reaction bar every single fucking winter.
Cold.
I feel like I'm falling, tingling, my guilt complex is setting in yet he's undoing and my foolish adrenaline's kicking in and my breathing's shallow.
There's this light groaning escaping my lips, against his own; the glass window reflecting our innocent bodies.
I am so terrified of everything.
He's laughing, I'm laughing --
who the fuck am I?!
Where the fuck am I?!
Why the fuck don't I care?!
I wanted to wait for marriage.
I should never have taken that line, should never have taken pills.
The first pill was devil's water.
I'm losing myself, shaking against the bed,
where he pins my shoulders whilst moaning, hands racing,
and searching his drawer for something,
or other.
"This," He smirks with a purple, square, packet lying on his palm. "It's tonight, little girl."
I gulp down what I think is the last piece of innocence and smile.
How many times must I
say so long... goodbye, sweet child?
Losing Youth II
There's a photobooth.
It's cramped
with three of us laughing and hitting and shouting and spacing and floating and zoning--
He squeezes my hand
and we're alone again...
where was the photobooth?
We're in his room with the posters of pierced, nude girls
and the lines of perfect, tupic spliffs.
He pays no attention as his eyes float hazily around space.
Where is the parental guilt
while he is guilding my hand down his dirty, blue jeans to those black boxers hiding his bulge?
I'm inside, and my hand's shaking, and I'm not sure what I am meant to do.
My pulse is racing, there is sweat on my palms, it is standing, I don't want to hurt it, I don't want to do it wrong, he's guiding--
I feel so embarrased.
"Sh."
One finger over my mouth as he slides his pale, warm, manly, soft hand inside my shirt and
with two fingers tweaks a hardening nipple.
I didn't know anyone could stur that reaction bar every single fucking winter.
Cold.
I feel like I'm falling, tingling, my guilt complex is setting in yet he's undoing and my foolish adrenaline's kicking in and my breathing's shallow.
There's this light groaning escaping my lips, against his own; the glass window reflecting our innocent bodies.
I am so terrified of everything.
He's laughing, I'm laughing --
who the fuck am I?!
Where the fuck am I?!
Why the fuck don't I care?!
I wanted to wait for marriage.
I should never have taken that line, should never have taken pills.
The first pill was devil's water.
I'm losing myself, shaking against the bed,
where he pins my shoulders whilst moaning, hands racing,
and searching his drawer for something,
or other.
"This," He smirks with a purple, square, packet lying on his palm. "It's tonight, little girl."
I gulp down what I think is the last piece of innocence and smile.
How many times must I
say so long... goodbye, sweet child?
Published 2nd Feb 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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2nd Feb 2011 9:41am
Wow, this is deep, I've been in a situation like this and i have a poem that i wrote abou it! Your flow is good and rythm, keep up the good work
2nd Feb 2011 6:19pm
2nd Feb 2011 10:07am
such powerful emotions, LA. you really captured the innocence, fear, dilemma and excitement of the moment. stirring regret and wonder. well done, as usual! [:
2nd Feb 2011 6:18pm
Thank you Jesta, as always, I'm trying to form diary entries of important bits of my teenage years before I start forgetting them =]
Anonymous
2nd Feb 2011 6:47pm
Yes, I was hooked and then the dramatic realisation that you're about to say goodbye to innocence was brilliant.
Well written,
S
Well written,
S
2nd Feb 2011 6:54pm
Thank you, Laugharne! I'm glad it had that affect, it wasn't the easiest little piece to write :) Thanks again.
2nd Feb 2011 7:01pm
Brings back memories of my first time, all the time trying to be the big strong man, who knew what he was doing(still not sure).
Brilliant.
Brilliant.
2nd Feb 2011 7:03pm
I love how everyone pretends that we know what we're doing and it's some truly horny, gratifying experience, no it's clumsy and we should laugh at it, compare so to realize all this hype that you have to be a sex god in bed is not always reality. Sometimes there's just too much pressure for sex to be so perfect now. Anyway rant over, thank you for your insight and comment, NAP =]
2nd Feb 2011 11:08pm
I wish my first time was so exciting. I was too busy feeling guilty for many (many) reasons. But you captured this scene very well, LA.
2nd Feb 2011 11:27pm
Thank you, PTM. It wasn't totally great but hey, it was what it was and I'm glad it could make people smile =]
