My Warning

I've been hesitant to share this poem, because it's so negative. It feels very vulnerable. But I wasn't happy when I wrote it, and if I can't express that in poetry, then where can I express it? Poetry doesn't judge.
*****

Before you decide to write me,
My heart requires
That I tell you I'm a bad, sinful woman
With dirty desires.

For I should have warned him.
Let him know he should stay away;
That he wouldn't want to write me
For I'd lead him astray.

Though I listened to him with kindness
And spoke to him with respect,
My body felt so alive
It responded in lust more than one might expect.

He called me names of endearment,
"My love" and "baby girl."
He told me I was beautiful,
My heart was awhirl.

I listened to him cum,
It aroused me so much.
We talked dirty together,
Oh, how we wished we could touch.

I'm mad at myself for listening to him
And responding in kind:
My fucking guard shattered in pieces
When it crashed to the ground.

I couldn't keep my desire hidden.
Oh, god, I wanted him badly.
My body ached for him, and
I would have gone with him gladly.

I shared too much of myself with him too fast.
He began to feel strong guilt and shame.
Now he's told me he can't write me
Ever again.

Fuck, I'm angry at myself
For freely expressing my longing.
I should have kept it hidden:
Now I'm alone, without a sense of belonging.

Was our mutual lust, and love, sinful, dirty, disgusting?
Am I, too, somehow?
I should have warned him,
So heed my warning to you now:

I'm a bad, sinful woman with dirty desires,
And I need to convey
That if you don't want to be tempted,
You should stay away.

Stay the fuck away.