when i was eighteen, i thought i was a revolutionary

When I was eighteen, I thought I was a revolutionary.
I was a movie star.
My kind of revolution would be televised in shame,
in dark booths with sticky floors,
on pay-per-view late night channels,
written on bathroom stalls.

Imagine this scene:
We enter a movie theatre.
He takes me back to his apartment.
The music swells.
He enters me.

I go home and realize that
the names you don't want to remember
are the hardest to forget.