death by paper cut

someday i will find the words

it's been seven months and i don't know how to say the word ' rape ' :

it's like the game i used to play circa . 09' . back of the playground, kids surrounding us to hide. the girl in the bubblegum skirt would slap my hands and i'd try not to cry. my face burning red hot as i sat there, her voice sticking onto my blonde tenth tooth memories. ' don't let them see you hurt . '

your tongue and my throat. such a discouraging way to meet you, hell. the stars are the only thumbprint whispering to me. leave, leave, leave.
and, i don't know how to pick up the pieces.
my body is sinking into the carpet the owner complained about, when the bloody vomit wouldn't stop, and your hands fell onto my thigh.

i'm all tumbling knees,
boy with fire in his eyes
boy, not man.
sweltering the lust and hatred out.
you still haven't learnt your mama's lessons.
how letting the fist go doesn't mean your weak?
or maybe, you just like fucking.
and how my knees are shaking like when i was in eighth grade, first day.
back of the class,
and i still can't escape

the bobby-pins and
locked bathroom doors /
the way your skin feels like it's
burying me inside my deathbed /
u touch me like i'm prayer /  but
my eyes are at a loss inside the ceiling fan.

you'll never find me again