7 days (Room 13)

Poem Info
372 words
3.61
21.2k
00
Poem does not have any tags
Share this Poem

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Sunday.
Outside some church; I play
Some music.
Children play like adults.
The priest seeks out some
Holy white powder.
Eyes meet in the
Parking lot. Taboo lovers;
A fist clenches; there'll
Be pain
Tonight.
It's going to be a long week.

Monday.
My work calls; my Woman
Calls.
I want my music; instead,
I hear screams
In room 13.
Dishes with my lady at
Night; we smile,
We laugh. Our bodies are
Hot.

Tuesday.
A display screen talks to me;
I listen to fantasies instead.
At dinner, my lady and I lose
It. The table becomes our
Bed.
In room 13,
The sound of skin on skin; like us.
We moan. They shout. We all cry.

Wednesday.
13 is quiet; so is my life.
My lady wants to talk.
Not tonight. Tomorrow, after a movie.
A new neighbour moves in
Across the street:
The white chalk outline.

Thursday.
Bitch. Bastard.
The words are uncontrolled;
My lady and I are
Average.
We fuck around on each other.
We need time, she says.
I say goodbye.
The break is clean, for tonight.
Something breaks in room 13.
I am afraid that it may be red.

Friday.
Work was hard; my friend
Jack Daniels
Stayed all night.
My head hurts, but not
As much as the
Woman in room 13.
I knew her once, the secret
Way men and women know each other.
The man she's with
Knows her too; I knew
Her moans and sighs; he knows her
Blood and tears. I tasted her pleasure.
He has tasted her
Pain.
She wants to taste his.
She asks a favour of me.
Tomorrow will be quite
A day.

Saturday.
My lady at my
Door. She looks
Beautiful.
I invite her in for breakfast.
Our talk is rich; our sex devours the apartment.
Friends and lovers go well
Together.
Room 13 is silent;
Not everyone is average. (I make a call)
The police are
Outside the building.
Gunshots
From next door; my lady holds me;
The police move
In. A body lies in a pool of
Blood.
He was holding a knife; she had a gun.
My lady looks at me,
Thank God we're average,
She says.
I suddenly don't know
Who to thank anymore.

Please rate this poem
The author would appreciate your feedback.
Share this Poem