Sex to Making love
Sex, okay sex.
on an air mattress
with a guy I just met.
ripe at sweet sixteen.
then it happened ,
the next day came
He was still there
in my inbox
asking
for me.
Making great love
on an actual bed
with mine truly
a bit wiser at seventeen
as his girlfriend
and much more to be
at least that's how
I hope it to be
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Puffing Pachyderm
Just lost; occasionally looking for an unclear something or overwhelmed nothing. Mostly distracted trying to chase the wind, an equally impossible task. Never prepared, it slips over and under all about the room never taking shape or forming thought. Scared to move past predictable, dreading the inevitable reoccurrence of the past. Personal torture undefined by tomorrows ideals or today's good fortune. Every nightmare rooted in yesterdays folly. Fear a weight to the heart spawned from multitudes of misinformed decisions. Roaming lost forever.
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