You told me I was **** when you touched me
on my chest and stomach,
but I am sure that I wasn’t **** at all.

I have memories of you
cradling me like a lion with his cubs,
except there was nothing paternal
to your touch or words,
and I felt no safety when I was
in your bed.
Not even when you told me not to worry,
not even when I came to you
to escape my nightmares.

You didn’t seem to understand
that you simply led me into new,
scarier ones.