PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I lie naked in a stranger's bed;
Relatively remembering his name.
At the prelude of our tryst he'd said;
"Hi, there. I'm Ted. Glad you came."
Or was it Jed?
Perhaps, Fred?

I don't really know;

Nor, do I care.
He was there.

And for a moment I had escaped;
My iniquity;
By virtue of iniquity.

As this stranger lies dormant;
The ache returns;
Resentfully burns.
My stomach churns.

I slip from the mucky bed;
Unconcerned of Fred;
Or Ted;
Or whatever his name was.

The buzz;
In my head;
Is deafening;
Impairing.

Abhorrence and revulsion;
For what I've done;
What I do.
There is none;
Like you;
Yet, I continue.

Deceitful lies;
My heart is bleeding;
My soul is receding;
This sickness;
A wicked needing.

Tears are streaming.

Suddenly, I'm screaming;
As Ted;
Or Fred;
Eyes gleaming;

Grasps my hair;
Thick and sweaty his hands.

He stands;
Savagely tall.
I'm comparatively small.

He abrades my face;
Without a trace;
Of remorse.

I am a toy;
A carnal game.

Prelude to my demise;
I remember his name.