Careful, hon!

It’s loud, this hurried hearbeat.
It’s different, with no walls.
It’s strange, my own street I fail to recognize.
It’s scary, these men I’ve never seen on my street.
It’s unfamiliar, the look in your eyes.
It’s unnerving, when you don’t answer me.
It’s blood-curdling, your voice and stance.
It’s …it’s…
It’s dark, all of a sudden.
It’s warm, when I rest on your bosom.
It’s wet, as life flows out of you in a hurry.
It’s silent, my last scream.