what had love done to me?

we skipped that day.

i never skip.

but that day, you convinced me to.

we left at lunch

and walked to your old townhouse.

guilt and indecisiveness and questions

knotted in my stomach.

was my mother going to drive by the streets

that we were passing?

was the school going to call my parents

about the strange disappearance?

you grabbed my hand

and told me to stop worrying.

to let go and

live.

we went to your house

and you started to kiss me.

my lips were kissing you back

my hands were roaming your soft body.

but my mind was buried in guilt.

although i knew my mother would

never find out,

how could i do this to her?

i was the good daughter,

not the one who went to boy’s houses.

i was the star student,

not the one who skipped class.

what had he done to me?

what had love done to me?