PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I met you after work

in an empty parking lot.

Your tinted windows 

hid our dark deeds.

Few words were spoken

before your tongue

found my mouth.

Then your fingers

reached for me

and searched inside me.

I felt like a dog bowl 

as you lapped me up,

moaning as if I quenched 

your parched throat.

When I couldn't climax,

I made you believe I had,

putting on a performance

for your pleasure.

So I went through the motions,

pretending I was enjoying myself

even though I wanted it to end.

I knew what was coming-

you pushed my face down

and finished in my mouth.

Then you held me in your arms

as a single tear fell

from my cheek to your chest.

I cried all the way home

and immediately jumped in the shower.

I tried and tried to scrub 

your scent off of my skin,

gargle mouthwash until

your taste was gone.

But your memory could not be erased;

the thought of what I subjected myself to

was enough to make me gag.