We stay up late talking
Into the dark hours of the night.
Spilling secrets,
Trading thoughts. . .
We speak of getting high enough,
To feel only happy. . .
Not care that we hate each other,
With a passion all it's own.
Wish we were drunk enough,
To not remember. . .
That, you prefer rum and coke
and I, gin and tonic. . .
We sneak out of our houses,
meet up on the trails.
Blow some smoke.
Drink some booze.
Just a little fun.
But there's a line you see. . .
You crossed it.
The night you leaned in to whisper,
"I won't tell anybody. . ."
Expecting me to melt in your hands. . .
I did.
I became your play thing.
Your toy,
a doll of sorts.
You could dress,
or undress me as you pleased.
I wanted you to.
Though your lips tasted of sweet wine,
It was not your kiss I was after.
You reeked of pot,
Though a pleasuring scent
It was not your body I was after.
No, I wanted your heart.
Only your heart. . .
I knew I'd never be your lover,
But at least I'd fill your sheets.
Keep your bed warm at night,
your company under the covers. . .
I didn't tell my daddy.
So how could he know?
You said you wouldn't tell. . .
You wouldn't tell that I,
young and sweet.
Gave you my innocence to you,
Sad and cruel. . .
But, you crossed that line,
and had to tell.
How else would daddy have found out?
