Sometimes I get drunk and remember the sound of his laughter
Remember the sound of my voice saying no
And his soft chuckle, like my safety wasn’t important
Like I wasn’t 14 and scared
Sometimes I get drunk and remember pushing him off me
Remember him climbing on me again
Holding me down
Sometimes I remember the feel of him inside me
Hurting
No alcohol necessary, the pain just lingers
Lingers like his laugh does when I close my eyes
Lingers like the secrets trapped in my throat
I still haven’t told my mother how he hurt me
Still haven’t admitted to myself that I’m still afraid
Sometimes I get drunk just to get aloof enough to touch another person
I put all the bottles away
And I still hear the laughter