June 19, 2021.
But I had been groped
Never had my hand held
But I had felt hands on my throat
What sort of drug is love
If it makes someone behave like this
If this is how it’s supposed to feel
I no longer want it
He was a class clown
Charismatic and considered kind
But this was no laughing matter
And no one was on my side
And though my body
At that time in my life
Didn’t seem to be mine
I woke up crying about the shattered person in my mirror
Oh but he keeps trying to be my friend
Years later, as if I’ve forgotten
Or as if I’ve been convinced it wasn’t so bad
As if the hungry wolf had never sunk its teeth into the lamb
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 277 times
Written on 2021-06-19 at 17:45
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wolf in sheep’s clothing
I had never been kissedBut I had been groped
Never had my hand held
But I had felt hands on my throat
What sort of drug is love
If it makes someone behave like this
If this is how it’s supposed to feel
I no longer want it
He was a class clown
Charismatic and considered kind
But this was no laughing matter
And no one was on my side
And though my body
At that time in my life
Didn’t seem to be mine
I woke up crying about the shattered person in my mirror
Oh but he keeps trying to be my friend
Years later, as if I’ve forgotten
Or as if I’ve been convinced it wasn’t so bad
As if the hungry wolf had never sunk its teeth into the lamb
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 277 times
Written on 2021-06-19 at 17:45
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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