You never left.
Paralyzed in my bed, your voice softly whispers commands and your hands brush over parts of my body that belong to me only.
I left months ago and yet your touch still lingers. Your tongue drips poison into the cracks of my mind.
I didn’t know that it was wrong; not then. I thought it was something all girls did for their boyfriends. That it was normal to do it “one more time” just because he asked. Didn’t you deserve it? You gave me friends, you called me beautiful, sexy. You told me you loved me one kiss at a time.
One kiss at a time you exercised your desire for control, stripped me of dignity and self-confidence.
I was insane for ever getting angry at you because I was just an idiot. You made sure I knew. When I yelled I was irrational and when I called you out in front of your friends I was on my period.
I was selfish for spending time with my family and friends and if I dared to take a day to myself, I clearly didn’t love you enough.
If I loved you, why wouldn’t I always jump on the opportunity to melt my body into yours, stepping into a realm that no 15-year-old understands? Why wouldn’t I offer up every part of me to you? Every inch of my body and mind and soul was offered to you.
The fear never left that someone would do it to me again; all because you asked and I didn’t know that I could say no.