Bottles

Disoriented, I take another sip from my red, plastic cup.

Ready to throw up; I shouldn’t have skipped dinner.

Unwanted attention, they try to take advantage as their hands steadily reach down my back.

Nausea caused, not by the tequila bottles I’ve been drinking, but by them. I signal they should

Keep their disgusting hands off me, or there’s going to be a fight .

Eventually they move onto a

New potential victim. One that’s

Not aware of their intentions. They think the skin she’s not afraid to show is inviting,

Except they’re wrong.

She’s inviting, but she’s inviting the other team. This gets a rise out of them, however those

Sickening creeps end up with only a bottle of lotion in bed.