Say it like it is sweetheart,
be the whipping heat of
your own sandstorm.

Take a deep breath
and let the lies scrape your skin raw,
from the inside out,
just like his mouth,
at the nape of your blistered neck.

Tie the string of black cherry stems
with a skillful tongue,
and bound wrists,
staining your ****** dress
with the hungry fingerprints
of a boy who did not deserve
Your first kiss

Lie awake with a whispered prayer
choking the night air
and realize that even if the omnipotent man upstairs
can turn the other cheek
that you are far from forgiving
your own mistakes.