She took the one night stand

and the makeout session in a dark, dusty room

and the boy she let feel her up

and shots 1, 2, and 3

and the sweat infused dance floor

and shots 4, 5, and 6

and a touch of her own, sweet and then sharp

and she stuffed them in her pocket to keep her warm

Because her being was a numb ice cold

But the feeling seeped through the fabric

and burned her skin like acid

Her own time-bomb feel