It is the aftermath that is of most importance.
The moment where they take their hand and slide it up around their own breast.
Their mouth slightly agape in a moment of
Relief? Ecstasy? Guilt?
There is no word for this feeling.
And then they take their hand further up and ruffle their own hair.
Not too gently but not too roughly;
A swipe.
End to end.
They lay there in solitude.

You slept again with that unknown man,
I sniff your clothes, freezing my cheeks sending a nervous shudder,
Radiant exuberance rushes through every cell, as my mind enters a ****** state of pleasure and Benzedrine.
Fire ignites from within every hole, I cry out for my thoughts are their own, and they are spinning on the floor.

I look to the sky and say "forgive me father" as I enter this state of perfect purgatory.
Breaking down crying naked I shriek with delight.
Burning a cigarette hole in my arm I let the supernatural ecstasy encompass me, as Imagine his fiery eyes.

I want to pleasure him, I want him to rip my limbs.
Sit on my ***, and worship his soul.
Feel the feeling as he lifts your legs to his waist,
as he chokes you out of consciousness, forcing you to imagine my reaction.
The feeling of having him inside you as he fills you with pain, pleasure and joy.

For you think you cheated,
and got away,
but in reality I was always really gay.

Epiphanies appear in various forms, and, on rare occasions, they even come at three thirty in the morning with your pants around your knees.