Hour Seventeen, Loss that is not cliche

Concrete Blonde

My physical virginity had long been lost
to a molester’s cruel hands when I,
fed up with being afraid, lost my spiritual
virginity to one who was unworthy,
and unaware of the sacrificial altar that his
living room floor then became.

The alternative group Concrete Blonde
wailed their ethereal grunge in the background
of an act that took less than the time
of the B side of their album.

We fumbled with clothes, I pretended to love,
finally betrayed at summer’s end. For a time
I became the concrete blonde myself, hardened
and hollowed out, ghosting along the sidelines
and hurting for someone who didn’t deserve my pain.

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