loose

[somnambulance]

When I was 13
I made out with a boy
with a face I can't remember
except for the acne on his chin,
surrounded by sharks while
we interlaced our amateur lips together,
clumsy.

we stood up to be
seen with a teenage sense of bravado and
the teacher yelled out
hell no
embarrassment crept down my cheeks

the memory forever
lodged in my brain
with shards of shame sticking out like thorns
that were meant to protect myself from
the shame of being thought as
"loose" when in reality
i was just a young girl with
secrets too big
caught in my throat
      and
excema that wouldn't leave;
the red patches on my arms
another sign of alarm
      you should be alarmed.
instead i was precribed creams
i never used because
they burned

i burried the thorns of embarrassment
under a blanket
in a closet that later would no longer fit me;
begged the universe to help me
forget how much they stung
when i touched them.