Although we tried to be less noisy about it.” She grinned at me. I was getting a little confused, it was the first time she ever addressed me by nam..., let alone a nickname!“I wanted to ask you if…” she paused before continuing… “You were thinking of me while you did it?”I was stunned and didn’t know what to say or do. I couldn’t deny it, because I am one of the world’s worst liars, and I couldn’t admit it because it was so wrong, so very wrong. While I thought furiously she pulled the sheet. Pretty name for a pretty girl. She was twenty-two and in college and she wrote poetry. When she first told me, I rolled my eyes. She had no fucking idea what poetry was. Probably wrote about unicorns and fairies and true love and all that shit. That was more like literary masturbation. It wasn’t real. What was real was writing about the fucked up shit, taking all that rage that builds up inside of you until you want to scream, and putting it onto words. That was beautiful. Not fucking sonnets. More

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