her too...

I always knew. . .

That in my youth I used my words like shackles to bind her into a yes

That she had no friends. And only wanted affection and respect.

I only wanted sex.

She heard paper thin compliments, choosing reluctant solitude; slut was never really a choice.

I only saw a face and lips, and would say anything to drown out her voice.

How much of her was never seen when only her skin mattered to me?

How much I missed because I only wanted a kiss, caring little of the girl who was behind those lips?

I only hope the fire in her eyes grew stronger with every sleazy lie from every boy between her thighs.

Because of her, I look back with shame, and understand the true marks and courage it takes; to be a man.