His breath short
and temper imitating,
thinking…
Hold that bitch down
till she chokes.

And the outside
shimmers with the hope
that it’ll all end soon,
and she wanders around later
in the freezing cold
to punish herself for putting her mouth
around an angry dick.

She wasn’t even all that lonely
and she wasn’t even wanting to really.
But she did it anyway
because she made a promise.

No, the promise was not to fuck
herself up
or to fuck as many people as she could.

She wanted to drown in her X
and soak in her rum
and curl up with her closest friend
and cry because she could
and no questions would be asked
and no eyebrows would be raised
and she would feel the comfort of
a touch that cared
and ran through her hair
like a river through boulders.

And when he made her choke,
she wished that she would vomit
her fears and worries
all over that sick bastard.

And he wouldn’t talk about her
“big hips” and how he’d like to tear
things up between her legs.

Whatever happened to my body being a temple?