A year later, but,
sometimes, in the night, he's there,
whoever he was,
his clammy hands, groping.
Sometimes it comes
when I am alone and scared,
sometimes it's
me, in a bed with my best friend
with my back turned
and I'm scared for no reason.

But you know,
it wasn't even the real thing.
It was my fault,
I was so drunk, I couldn't push him off me,
he didn't even really get me,
and I passed out straight away after
so was it really that bad?

But it was
it's still a night terror.

Michael pulled me out of the slump.
I didn't want him or love him,
but I trust him,
he showed me how to feel again,
but I couldn't cuddle him.
Couldn't touch his skin,
or face away from him.

The creepy crawlies run over me
and the bad dreams pick away
at my conscience.

I tried to tell them,
they wouldn't listen.