Conundrum

An older poem I found, that has some meaning.

Should I feel guilty?
Should I still feel gross and dirty?
Aren't we all young and curious, at one point?
The thing is, I don’t remember.
I only remember bits and parts, and sometimes in dreams I’ll get another piece to fit in the puzzle.

She may be the reason as to why I hate the feeling of losing control.
I’m not afraid of what would happen if I did lose control,
I’m afraid of what I’d remember.