worm

What was I thinking?
What were you thinking?
Why am I here?
He’s fucking disgusting
slurring his night’s desires into my cringing ears

It’s a party gone wrong, and all the fun people have passed out.
I’m half tempted to sleep in the bathroom
with the door locked.
If I asked with a pretty please
would you let me sleep on your floor?

Of course you wouldn’t
he’s just some joke you set me up to fuck once
and I was lonely enough to get into his bed
and fake it

Your whiskey smashed eyes
can’t see my hands shaking

“He’s so into” you whisper to me alone
like I hadn’t already noticed
though I’ll never be drunk enough
to whisper back the revulsion he spewed into my head
in any way that you’d be capable of understanding

“He’s a good guy” you slur
“Just a bit of a piss head”
and I wish it was that simple
or that it was true

Me, I know a potential-rape when I see it
alcohol-laden bile coming back up my throat
as he licks the air in my direction

© Indie Adams 2012