Violation and Inspiration

Violation and Inspiration

I lay the virgin down
onto the cold, hard wood,
looking her over.
Pure, white, pristine;
she looks up at me
as if to beg that
I corrupt her.

I lean over her,
wrapping my fingers
around that which shall
take her purity away,
and hesitate.
The hard, round shaft
waits in my grasp
with fluid inside,
begging release.

Ever so gently
I press it against her
and cause it to move.
Slow and precise,
careful not to tear her
though my mind screams
for greater speed
lest it lose the urge
which drives me on.

Sooner than expected
I am finished.
I sit back
with my cigarette,
looking over her
and what I have done,
and am disgusted.

I toss her aside
as I would any trash.

I reach for a new sheet
of pristine, white paper...

I shall once again
attempt to write.