the memory is foggy, but it’s there
I used to think I had dreamt it;
his hands on my shaking body, his breath that smelled of alcohol
the images were so distant that they almost felt unreal
my therapist used to ask me if I was sure it really happened
and to be fair, I wasn’t
but why would a ten year old imagine something so twisted?
and why would the thought of my own dreams make my stomach sick?
I spent years wondering what really happened
and I finally know it was real
because whenever I replay the events I remember
I am back
I can feel the cold air on my skin and the tenseness in my muscles
his voice telling me to come closer
his hands on my shaking body, his breath that smells of alcohol
my dreams have never made me feel this way
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 10:18 PM UTC
the memory is foggy, but it’s there
I used to think I had dreamt it;
his hands on my shaking body, his breath that smelled of alcohol
the images were so distant that they almost felt unreal
my therapist used to ask me if I was sure it really happened
and to be fair, I wasn’t
but why would a ten year old imagine something so twisted?
and why would the thought of my own dreams make my stomach sick?
I spent years wondering what really happened
and I finally know it was real
because whenever I replay the events I remember
I am back
I can feel the cold air on my skin and the tenseness in my muscles
his voice telling me to come closer
his hands on my shaking body, his breath that smells of alcohol
my dreams have never made me feel this way
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