deepundergroundpoetry.com
He Knew
He knew I was afraid - it still quite hurts
To recollect the way he chose to twist
My thoughts and, then, my feelings, as the skirts,
I wore, were tugged down fast;, he did insist
That it was something I was ready for;
His hand was on my thigh; his interest
Was focused on the fact that he could score;
I hid my blushes, as his hand caressed
My shins and, then, my shoulders as he brushed
Away my reservations; and I sighed
To see for the first time what I had done;
I'd made him hard or so he said - he tried
To make me sigh again; he found this fun
And pressed me through first amours - he waylaid
My feelings, though he knew I was afraid.
To recollect the way he chose to twist
My thoughts and, then, my feelings, as the skirts,
I wore, were tugged down fast;, he did insist
That it was something I was ready for;
His hand was on my thigh; his interest
Was focused on the fact that he could score;
I hid my blushes, as his hand caressed
My shins and, then, my shoulders as he brushed
Away my reservations; and I sighed
To see for the first time what I had done;
I'd made him hard or so he said - he tried
To make me sigh again; he found this fun
And pressed me through first amours - he waylaid
My feelings, though he knew I was afraid.
Published 26th Dec 2018
Author's Note
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26th Dec 2018 00:13am
He might have gotten off on the fear. The fact that he knew the misgivings proves him a boor, seems to me. I know one thing myself. I love this write.
It's my constant struggle - I sometimes want the sheer depraved alienation of hardcore; but I find people who espouse hard core generally to be utterly repellent - leads me into scrapes all too often. Blushes.
30th Dec 2018 6:28pm
there's power play and overpowering bullying - some don't know the difference
