Two steps, quick look. Smile.

Count two, three. Faded frown.

Four, person number five; skip the next pace.

Scour the hall; fearful to see his face.

 

Imgine, still. Burning hazel eyes;

Combed, cofee flavored hair.

Afrcan lips, olive toned face;

Starring. Slowly hands glide

Down, past dimpled lower back.

Trailing to the button of her

Faded, black, skinnies.

She panics, grabs his hands;

Trembling, whispering "don't.."

Words have no effect on a man so charged.

As he slowly drags her hands

Above her head.

Bounce. She's forced onto his bed.

His left hand holds down both her left and right;

As his right hand quickly interacts with the

Unbuttoned, unzipped, faded balck skinnies

And all that's behind them.

She struggles no more, refuses no more.

Momentarily, she likes him more.

False advertising.

Terrified later of whispered promises

As he grabs her arms, holding them against

The shed. Words forcefully subdued into her ear.

These words haunting her as she attends school, routinely she lives:

 

Two steps, quick look. Smile.

Count two, three. Faded frown.

Four, Person numer five; skip the next pace.

Sour the hall; fearful to see his face.

 

"I can't wait. I know you don't want this; but I swear, I'll probably end up raping you."

She laughs it off. As her head fills with fear; anxiety,