Your lips pleaded for my consent
No one else
Had done that before
From middle aged men
With cigarettes on their breath
To family members
That I wished I could trust
You were the only one
Who begged
For me
And still sat with me
When my answer was
Not yet
YOU ARE READING
Her Story
PoetryNo more hiding. My name is not Alex, or Leila, or Stevie. I'm Stephanie and I haven't had everything great, though some things definitely are. Though, my poetry only reveals itself in heartache, so these are mostly sad. I hope you learn more about m...
