not looking at me.
Her expression is empty, as if what she did wasn’t personal.
And I’m not worth the aftermath.
She turns to someone else,
as I’m standing here, dripping.
She’s already moved on, while I'm shaking,
still trying to comprehend what just happened.
Then Andrew's voice floods the stillness?—
“Yo—what the fuck was that?
“Allison. Shit, you’re soaked...”
I feel the heat of him before I see him.
Then he’s leaning over me,
talking into my ear?—
“Ay—look at me, look at me.
“Please. Let’s just get outta here. Let’s go.”
Talking to me as if I’ll shatter.
As if I’ve been bleeding all night.
Which I have.
And he knew all along, and didn’t do shit.
The bass thumps like it's laughing.
I can't tell if I'm shaking from being cold
or vibrating from the music.
Andrew's too close,
and I don’t want to be near him.
I do, but now it feels too late.
If he says one more thing to me, I’ll crack.
If he touches me, I’ll fall.
So I beat him to it.
I shove him away, hand against his chest.
He stumbles back half a step, eyes wide.
