Will I?

How strange the

broken promise.

Why promise in the first place?

Perfection is a dream

but loyalty is a joke.

1 drink

2 drink

3 drink

floor.

As I squirm underneath

your clammy grasp

I remember

where I am.

It isn't right.

Not right at all. 

As my mother watches on.

"I will kill you!"

she screams,

possessed by the fear

of her youngest daughter

being a tramp.

Is that all there is?

Really?

In all honesty, I'll probably

fuck you

and never beg

for more.

But I won't remember,

will I?

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