24an. trigger warning for rape
i still look him up on facebook sometimes
bring myself to the point of nausea
clicking through his photographs
and scrolling through old statuses
the ones he wrote about me
and how badly he wanted me dead
this wound is supposed to be healed
i am not supposed to think about him anymore
this is old news. i am old news.
the victim. the child. the survivor.
how do you bring these things up?
i watch myself from far away
smoke curling around my face
drifting across me, by the house
three thousand miles from him
i wonder if he can taste it
i get stuck on his hands
on his hands
his hands
big and brown and beautiful
he was a foot taller than me
and so much stronger
so much meaner
his hands, pulling my hair
his hands, undoing my jeans
his hands, inside of me
i sat in class the next day and felt the same
wondered if anyone thought i looked different
i filled homework with sad quotes
and waited for someone to notice
when i told people what happened
no one knew what to say
even know i don't know what i wanted to hear
i still have nightmares
where he is telling me to take my clothes off
and i do it, just to keep him happy
i was not strong
that is something i live with every day
in silence
i don't want anyone to know
i'm still broken