I know you’re going to leave me.

I know the way you think.

I know the past few months I’ve brought you,

so close to the brink.

I know exactly what will go through your mind.

I know exactly what you’ll say,

and even though it’s going to hurt like hell,

I’ll listen anyway,

because I got so drunk I had to lie down.

I could barely lift my head,

and ended up falling asleep,

between my guy friends on my bed.

When I woke up in the morning,

I had the faintest reminisce of a bad dream,

and when I realized it was reality,

I could barely hold in my scream.

The memory flows through me,

of when I woke up, squirmed, gasped,

and turn my back to the pervert

who had his hands down my pants,

and his lips on my lips,

while I was asleep.

Now most of the time,

I feel used, violated, and cheap.

I know you’re going to blame me.

I BLAME MYSELF PLENTY,

and the more I think about it,

the more I feel start to feel empty.

I know you might not even believe me.

You hardly believe a word I say.

Though you’ll look at me with disgusted eyes,

I need to tell you anyway.

I want to scream.

I want to cry.

I want to destroy these memories,

and never say goodbye