The Worshiper

Some days they plunged some days they slipped either way they managed to explore what was suppose to be uncharted territory 

So as you can imagine I hate that he o of all people mapped it
 
Shhh can't you hear Silence ....... then his heavy breath is how it'd begin heavy as if he was carrying the plight of humanity's first sin in his exhalation 
 
The epitome of my dread a picture of the face he makes when he's at work for ever imprinted on  my brain it shouldn't be there 
I shouldn't feel his hands exploring me or his fingers nimbly trying to thread through the buttons and zippers on my pants 
 
I wish i knew how to hate him
 
Silence .........then this heavy breath is how it'd begin as if he were carrying bricks in his exhalation 
 
Somewhere id be pinned trying to get away saying to myself think amira just think push him away punch and kick until it makes him sick enough to go away but he'd never go away so I began saying to myself think amira just think soon he'll be far away until the bell rings until in our next class he dilloutes my presence with his looming personality  this lovesick puppy gone wrong 
 
Silence ......... then this heavy breath is how it'd begin a if he were the weight of the devils bruised ego in his exhalation 
 
Who knew a boy wanting to worship you at your feet  would come with such a price when you don't let him it quickly went from vouching for my attetion to crimson hips bruised from affection , I was so scared that in the end I used not writing about him as a protection from something  else i end up hating to see when I look at my reflections so the dozens of poems I've written in his honor will do him no justice to the thousands I have soaring through my head 
 
Silence..... that is how it will always begin because obliviousness is the gift will keep on giving 
This poem is about: 
Me

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