Sneaking out with my friends
\nTo meet a middle-aged man
\nWith intent on stealing my virtue
\nTalking of red wings, things I
\nKnew absolutely nothing of
\nOther than it was vile
\nFriends with plans to steal away with me
\nTelling me I shouldn\u2019t wait
\nAnd that I didn\u2019t need love
\nI needed the experience
\nAnd what better way to learn
\nThan from a pedophile
\nDrunk at the wheel.
\nI remember crawling out the window
\nSlipping upon the ice
\nIn springtime\u2019s blushing pinks
\nScourging my exposed skin
\nAs they wanted me exposed
\nTo their sin.
\nFifteen years old
\nWith innocence intact
\nI wanted love first
\nAnd my love my last
\nBut not this burly drunkard
\nDusty mop of blonde hair
\nSplattered against a
\nSweaty forehead, hat askew
\nMumbles under breath
\nBut they promised it was alright
\nThat I was going to be okay
\nI was safe
\nWithin his arms and
\nCold hands clutching the steering wheel.
\n\u201cYou need to do this.
\nI\u2019ve been there before.
\nHe could make you feel so good.
\nHe\u2019s done it all before.\u201d
\nI couldn\u2019t keep the pressure from
\nPulsing in my head
\nBut in my heart, I knew
\nWhat felt right
\nAnd what was
\nMost certainly wrong.
\nI turned and ran,
\nFollowed my own footsteps
\nBack home
\nthrough my open window
\nAnd waited anxiously for one friend
\nTo return.
\nAs irony had it,
\nThey had nowhere else to go.
\nStuck on glare ice
\nIn front of my house
\nBurning rubber
\nScreeching tires
\nAs they went fast to nowhere
\nFor hours
\nThey sat, pushed, pulled, revved
\nPassed out from the booze
\nWhile one came back and the other
\nTied the noose
\nWith her own hair
\nAnd my stepdad in bed
\nOne eye open
\nAnd a mirthful smirk.
\nHonesty served me the next day
\nA plate of nods of approval
\nFor having the strength to say no-
\nNot this one
\nNot this time
\nNever again-
\nAnd it was then I also learned
\nWho I could trust-
\nWho was my friend
\nAnd who was out to try and make me-
\nMore like them
\nand less myself. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Sneaking out with my friends To meet a middle-aged man With intent on stealing my virtue Talking of red wings, things I Knew absolutely nothing of Other than it was vile Friends with plans to steal away with me Telling me I shouldn\u2019t wait And…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1485,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[4125,4630,654,2158,4631,4347,15,355,4632],"class_list":["post-99124","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","tag-2021-poetry-marathon","tag-fake-friends","tag-free-verse","tag-full-marathon","tag-my-best-interests","tag-open-verse","tag-poem","tag-poetry-marathon","tag-risky-situation"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/99124","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1485"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=99124"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/99124\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":99181,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/99124\/revisions\/99181"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=99124"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=99124"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=99124"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}