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Dec 2015
Im never good enough unless I let people **** me.
I thought when I met my boyfriend he would actually respect me.
But If I don't get naked he just neglects me, why do I need to have *** for him to love me?

He says the drugs turn him on,
but he can't stay hard enough to get me off. Give him some lotion and ****,
all interest in me is lost,
now hes anything but soft.

Does this mean I'm gross?
Should I shave better or wear less clothes? Im over reacting, I know.
******* I hate all drugs,
I can't stand the lows.
Do I just let him touch me?
I can't spit out the word no.
My body belongs to him, but I'm sick of going with the flow.
I need to make it clear I have a voice of my own.
Falling in love with him gave me a rare sense of hope.
I thought I would finally have some control,
then I realizef I'm still a piece of meat,
an eager to please ***.

I felt his love was pure and I wanted it all to myself.
I thought dating a man who preaches how much he cares meant it mattered what I felt.

I got away from the party rapes and bottles of *****.
I thought a relationship meant i would finally get to choose.
Why am i still being used?
Maybe he'd understand after stepping in my soulless shoes.
I can never win, the outcome is inevitable, I was born to lose.

So do I lay down and pretend I want the ***,
or watch him choose **** when I refuse to say yes.
Would he notice me if I had implants in my *******?
Maybe I need to be a tan blonde with no heart in my chest?
We all know those women can **** the best,
I can't compare so I just lay down to rest.

And I don't mean going to bed,
I mean 6 feet under with a grave stone at my head.
Even from the casket all I can smell is ****,
the reason for his shiny upper lip covered in sweat.
I asked him to wait on taking a hit,
but he smoked it and failed my little test. It's obvious its the drugs he loves best.

I needed to see if what I felt could over power his want for drugs.
Of course he didn't choose me, but his drugs left pain in my lungs.
I didn't know I would fall apart so young. It's looking like all of my abusers have won.

I should of just put out because now he wants to sleep on the couch.
I should have let him *** in my mouth, because now he's scraping a pipe and I'm just trash waiting to be thrown out.

But that's just how I feel on the regular,
so used to being alone, even with him across the room,
this feelings so familiar.
I promised another abusive relationship would never happen again
but his actions are scary similar.

I know he won't ***** me over,
but I'm a girl who let a drug user abuse her. A girl beaten in the street, wishing he would shoot her. Forced to be a freak in the sheets, a girl who said yes even when it bruised her.

Is it happening again?
Or am I just selfish for not pleasing my man?
Now I'm over thinking
Deep down I know his love is an ocean surounding my land.
My protector, drowning out all of the bad.
After all, he even held me while I screamed with a blade in each hand.
I try to remind myself this but my brain calls *******.
My mind is built in a shape that reality doesn't fit.
So when he says I'm his baby I can only hope he means it.
Fearing he will think I'm not worth it, I work so hard to stay atttactive.
Going days without food, I eat like a ******* rabbit.
I'm dizzy and might lose consciousness,
my sleep pattern is ******* eratic.
This migraine has my brain mushy and muffled like tv static.

This pain in my skull is dragging me to sleep,
my body aches, from my soul to my feet.
I should have opened my legs and tried not to shake.

I denied him what he wanted,
thinking my man would love me fully clothed.
I can't help but wonder,
is it wrong to keep my legs closed? 
I dont ******* know.

Being in love has left me on the floor cold and shaking,
other men see what they want and take it. Never been given an option,
so used to my body being taken.
He made a promise that he's different, but what if saying no is what'd break it?
I thought a relationship would give me more choices.
Yes or no,
a question I was never asked by my dozens of rapists.

It all feels like a repeat playlist,
I know he loves me and I'm trying to embrace it.
But even completely clothed,
I'm feeling helpless and naked.
Written by
   Nathan Horkstrom
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