decide if you are afraid of all the things a person has done.

decide if the reminder of these things is too much for you to handle
even though you are just as guilty.

little poisonous thoughts creep in.
little doubts, little frantic feelings.

little glimpses of the depraved.
am i too
depraved?
was i just pretending all along
was there another path for me
or has the voice of fate
crackled over the stereo
dictating the sway of my hips?

i don't know why people call it making love.
it doesn't feel like love
it feels like fear
it feels like something i swore i wouldn't do
it feels shameful.

i could never tell you.
i could never tell you how much i hate you.


strange ache below my stomach.

who are we to create life?