Run Fast

I asked him over, since my parents were gone 

And I didn’t want to be alone.  “Neither 

Do I,” he said over the phone, “Neither do 

I.”  He came through the door all out of breath, like 

He’d run fast and far from something.  It was fine, 

At first.  He just wanted to see the house, take

A look around, maybe watch some TV, “Have

A little fun.”  I wasn’t sure what he meant

“Have a little fun,” but I smiled anyway,

Thought, yeah, maybe a little.  It’d be alright.

When I showed him my room he plopped down on my 

Bed, bounced around a bit, told me “Come here,” but 

I stood still, didn’t want to stay there, but he 

Said “relax” and I did.  Sitting next to him

It seemed ok.  He was so nice the way he 

Touched my face, held me close, whispered, then kissed me.   

We pulled at each other’s clothes, laid very close,

Feeling all out of control, pounding in my 

Chest.  I said maybe we should slow down, maybe 

We should stop.  We should stop.  And I fought, pleaded 

I wasn’t ready, told him I didn't want 

To, that I was scared, now of him, pushing me 

Down until I couldn't move.  I said no.  I 

Said it again, begging against pink polka 

Dot sheets.  I wanted my mother to find us—

Now!—no matter how mad, anything than this.  

I tried to forget where I was, what I was,

My family’s eyes, their portrait, looking, still. 

When the phone rang he stopped—I pushed him off.  I 

Said hello, voice running past, the other, small, 

From earth’s end, mom asking what I was up to.