Am I a crumpled sheet of paper in the hands of my predators?
We are told a crumble sheet of paper can never be the same again.

My own thoughts strangled my voice as my body refused to listen to my brain
“No” did not come out. Apparently my kicking was not enough.

To touch my skin felt like fire burning through my veins, fire that ignited my predator
I never knew a sensual touch could feel so haunting.

Hopelessly sinking into the bed that became an ocean, water drowning me and continuously pulling me further down
Maybe if I surrender my body it will go faster.

Words disintegrating from my lips with the ashes of consent and destroying my trust for any human to touch my skin
How can I let another be this close when all I feel is you again?

Circling the drain of intimacy
I remember what your hands felt like. What if theirs feel the same?

I wear the damage like an extra layer of skin
This is deeper than just ***. How can I love again? How can I trust again?

My body used against me more than the number of fingers on my hand
Do I tell them? What if their afraid to touch me? What if I’m afraid to touch them?


They have to go.