Last night you guided me to your room, I didn’t want to go but for some reason I let you take me. I felt your warm touch on my skin as you helped me into bed.

I didn’t want to get into bed, well not yet anyway.

You kissed me on the cheek you didnt seem to notice when I pulled away. You kissed me gentley and I felt the need to pretend I liked it,
I wanted to tell you how I felt.

I didnt want to kiss you, well not like this.

You slowly undressed me, now this really did made me uncomfortable. Then you kissed my breast and although it felt good, it wasn’t you I wanted.

I didn’t want you, I wanted someone else.

When you made love to me, it wasn’t me who enjoyed it.
I wouldn’t call it love, I’d call it hatred. When I screamed did you even notice?

I didn’t scream your name in pleasure, it was him the one I love.