Beer pong and blow jobs
And backseats with cool leather
To rest my fevered cheek against
Trace the condensation building
On the rear window
Lazily with fingertips
That don’t want to touch
And I am wishing
There was a better place to do this
Instead of in a parking lot
Outside of a party
Comforting myself
With the thought
That my early twenties
Are when things like this
Should be done
My poor decision making
My impulsive nature
Is not because I’m young
Or drunk
Though I am both
It is not because
I am looking for love
Or even a slut
No doubt I will be
Called one tomorrow
When word trickles down
Through the small town grapevine
Like a terminal disease spreading
Named by the people
Who disguise themselves as friends
That egged me on
Have done the very same thing
Probably some of them
With the very same person
It is not my need to fit in
Or even lust that moves me
With purpose
It is loneliness
That hikes up my skirt
Peels down my panties
Parts my legs
Moistens my lips
I am warm
I am eager
I am ready
I am skilled
I am not alone
At least for right now
And right now matters more
Than later
Later I will lay in bed alone
Thinking of earlier
And wonder if I should worry
About my behavior
Or worry that I
Don’t really
Wonder at all
–Sarah E. Alderman