he's in the next room,
that man,
and what do I think of him?
more importantly what do I think of myself?
Each night like clockwork
thoughts begin to drizzle
and put a weight on my heart,
fear that I'm making a mistake
that I need to get out
before it's too late,
fear that I'll regret this all in a year
fear that I'm worth nothing more
than his toy,
he does, in every breath,
something to contradict all my fears
yet here I am
3am
and I'm petrified
I'm going to get hurt.