yes, i know the way his mouth twitches when he smiles,
how his eyes will turn to different shades of green when the hours
change,
and how he lends his fingers when you need assistance,
and how his room was our paradise, and i know how we screamed
to those songs in his car late at night, the snow pressed against
the windows

but what i don’t know, dear friends,
is how my words are empty pill bottles,
"he forced me"
and your cheeks tighten, your eyelashes dry,
i don’t know how my bruises, the blood caked on my thighs
are not as important as his pride,
the way he speaks of money like his one true love,

but what i don’t know is how when you were passed out,
sleeping away through **** hazes and drunken episodes,
his fingers scraped the back of my neck, and pushed and pushed
and pushed until
my teeth were coated with fear,
my throat gurgling with guilt

to my friends, i do not understand,
and when you mention his name, i am back in that room,
fifteen and in love and afraid,
with you under blankets,
oblivious