Don't Know What to Do

Didn't you hear?

She's a week late

And you fucked her

At that party at Jay's house

What are you going to do?

Remember she was really drunk

She doesn't know who you are

But you know exactly who she is

I heard that her parents kicked her out

She's living with her sister now,

And she wants to die

What do you do, when life and death

Don't have the answers?

It's not mine, she must have had others

But then you remember the blood on the floor

And the broken condom, that's what you get for

Leaving it in your sock for so long

Placing your head in your hands

All thoughts seem to vanish and a

Single though yells loudly in you mind

'Why me?'

This is a poem I wrote when I was fourteen; I found it in my notebook today.

My friend was going through this situation.

It's meant to be in the form of a conversation, italic is one voice, bold is another while regular script is him. I don't know what happened to him but anyway…

Noebody-Frankie Kali