One, don’t let his hands be the first and last to touch me.
Two, please don’t leave me.
Three, help me forget him.
Four, I just need somebody.
Five, is this why you invited me over?
Six, are we really in love?
Seven, I shouldn’t be here.
Eight, why is “no” stuck in my throat.
Nine, we’ve already gone this far, why not?
Ten, let’s get this over with.
Eleven, please just go home.
Twelve, you almost make this feel real, how can I make you stay?
Thirteen, I’m a good friend for doing this.
Fourteen, I’m just trying to forget him, I’m sorry.
Fifteen, when will this end?
Sixteen, I knew this was all you wanted.
Seventeen, I owe you this, thanks for being so nice to me.
These are the thoughts that went through my head while I slept with you all.
It’s an obsession.
Counting the number of bodies who have taken over my own.
I can’t stop counting.
Somebody please make me stop counting.