wrap your mind around this

who are we? what did we become?

you walk around a crowded, smokey room. a boy with a punked out leather jacket looks at you longingly, like you're the only girl in the room. he drifts over and grins big, talks to your friends. he doesn't bother to introduce himself, he knows he's already got you. asks you if "you wanna brew?". and when you follow him to a car, when he sticks his tongue down your throat, you think, "what is this? why am i doing this? this isn't me." but its so so foreign, it feels so so nice to be out of your element, like a dream, a feverish nightmare. to be someone you're not for 20 minutes. then you're home, lying on your side wide awake, going over the details of how he backed you into the corner of the car, how he peeled your sweater off, ran his hands over your tights. how he kept telling you to "just relax". how he didn't even know your name.

what are we? where did we come from?