It's A Nice Weekend, For A Black-Dress Wedding Poem by Dakota Ellerton

So careless we were,
at such a young age.
Alone in the cottage,
we shared a single glance.
Within seconds my clothes were off,
your pants were down.
I straddled your lap,
convincing myself of so much at the time.
I almost feel disturbed for the people to stay after us,
but curious of the ones before.
I slide off,
and wander into our room.
Getting dressed seemed to take even longer.
You knocked on the door,
so impatiently.
As I opened the door,
to jokingly tell you off...
You were on one knee.
With a ring in your hand,
you asked me to be yours.
It was expected,
but I was speechless none the less.
You slid it on my finger,
as I choked to talk.
The weight of such a commitment,
almost became a burden at first.
It nearly destroyed who I was.
I surrendered my will,
and seemingly gave myself to you.
You'd always ask me questions,
as if there was no trust.
The only question I'd yet to hear,
'How can you give, what you don't have? '.