here we are in the awkward silence.
the crime not long ago committed.
and after the passion was only regret
for the innocence i let you steal.
my clothing worn out off my body,
my hair a total mess.
you so clean and proper,
you clothes look neatly pressed.
so nonchalant was the hour
that passed while in this bed.
but now you hurry
you don’t want to be seen with this now.
its your fault you robbed me
of all that i had left.
my innocence forfeited
to what i thought was love.
but what deceit was laid before me,
when you took what you wanted and left.
just like the thief you are.
rape is not a good enough word,
for i did consent.
and as i cry while you open the door
you scoff, this was only a crime of passion.