you'd think you love this guy
the next thing you know, he's between your thighs
purloining your very innocence
i'm sorry, you didn't have the foresight
to finally call it a night
the disgust starts seeping in, evident
flesh against skin, it begins to rip
draining the spirit of your humour, a man's parasitic brain tumor
numb to the consequence, it drips
you become his perfect, plastic doll
submissive and subservient,
and suddenly, you don't remember what you're doing here at all.