Still

Image by Julia Horowitz
Image by Julia Horwitz
*trigger warning: sexual assault*

I gave you everything and you greedily took it. Raped my senses and left me raw. So why do you still haunt me?

I can still feel your boot on my back and your fist in my hair, drawing me up in front of your friends. I remember their looks, and their laughter, and you – their leader.

I remember your breath on my neck and your touch on my skin. The wanton look of lust in your eyes making me believe that I was beautiful and you were sorry.

Again.

We played our roles well because they were all we knew. When our eyes met years later, through the crowds on a mid-town street, words failed because we understood. You had lost your power, and I was no longer submissive. You turned away first unable to hold my gaze, but your ghost followed me.

Still.

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