I Was Forced Into This. No, really. (Liz's first post)

I was writing another poem, but this one was more vulgar! Great first post eh? :)

Priceless

Dirty.

The feeling you get when

you forget everything you were taught

All the morals, everything, just... forgot.

All the thoughts running wild,

"Is this really happening?

Is this worth a while?"

Or merely a couple of days, and then what?

I forget...

There's no point.

Why waste time with someone

who doesn't give you space,

living life like it's a race to the finish.

Finish of what?

Attraction? Lust?

There's no point.

Dirty.

When someone treats you like

Malleable dust bunnies

But he calls you honey

Hidden in the closet, beneath the bed,

In an unlit chamber with no pillow for your head.

Let yourself go with the flow

and do the deed,

But then what?

Are you considered a slut?

A whore who everyone abhors

Because you forget your place in the face of the world,

Insignificant.

All you can think of

"is this really happening, do I want this?"

No.

You do not know what you want

Where you are

Who you are.

It was a mistake,

But it didn't feel like it.

Nothing felt fake,

at the time right?

But now, looking back,

Shame pulls on loose threads,

Unravels a secret you couldn't bear

and shows what you really are.

Dirty.

You hope with high hopes

that no one finds out,

That rumors don't go about, ruining what?

A reputation. A standard.

The disease spreads and what is left is

that resented feeling of dread

and filthiness.

That's what you are.

Filthy.

Dirty is too kind a word to describe you

It's what you get for being a fool.

A useless tool with no self control

No recollection of the long talks with your mother about being priceless.