It was the sting from a slap for
reasons unanswered and brushed away
It was the cold tile on my knees
As I reeled from the ghost of his touch
The bile burning my throat raw
Already hoarse from screaming “I said stop”
“Why wouldn’t he stop?”
I’ve been to hell already
It was always at the hands of another
No gods existence matters
I’ve been to hell
And I’ve been burnt beyond repair
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 1:39 PM UTC
It was the sting from a slap for
reasons unanswered and brushed away
It was the cold tile on my knees
As I reeled from the ghost of his touch
The bile burning my throat raw
Already hoarse from screaming “I said stop”
“Why wouldn’t he stop?”
I’ve been to hell already
It was always at the hands of another
No gods existence matters
I’ve been to hell
And I’ve been burnt beyond repair
