I was not afraid

when I pressed my lips to his.

I thought:

"He's the one." "I need nothing more."

That was before he became his own addiction.

To lovely to love a simple girl.

To active to stop at just one.

I cried for mercy

six days before your trial.

I became a pill,

taunting and screaming at my former self.

"Who are you fooling?" I asked.

You still love him

your skin still aches with this feeling

your touch is still warm from his warmth.

Your fingertips are still on fire.

Have you forgotten? How could I

I was completely aware

through the whole ordeal.

I woke up suddenly

on the July afternoon.

I could no longer fuel myself

or lie to protect you.

I was not afraid

when I pressed my lips to his

but I am now.