I lay on the floral sheets of my bed, counting the stars scattered across the ceiling.

1...2...3

My body moves with each star I count.

4...5...

Sweet nothings are whispered in my ear, searing my bare skin.

6...7...8

He takes again and again.

...9...

He smears his essence into my skin and calls me a good girl.

He leaves with a promise for more tomorrow.

I hope tomorrow never comes.