poetry

81

not a poem, just a piece of writing but oh well

at first, it was like a haze— a disbelief that something so wrong could unfold in a space i once trusted. the air thickened. my breaths became sharp and ragged, like i was swallowing glass. i froze, not because i wanted to, but because my body betrayed me. somewhere between the moment his shadow swallowed mine and his hand reached for me, a strange numbness crept in. it was as if my mind had stepped outside of itself, watching from far away, whispering: this isnt happening. this cant be happening.

his grip was fire and ice, a jolt of unwanted reality that turned my limbs to lead. i pushed back— at least, i think i did. my voice strangled itself before it could rise, and the room blurred. my skin crawled, tingling with every inch that didnt belong to me anymore. my thoughts tripped over themselves, stuck between rage and fear, screaming without sound.

time became strange— a single moment lasting forever and somehow vanishing all at once. the world outside didnt exist; there was only his weight and my silence, the hollow beating of my own heart pounding in my ears. a thousand tiny details burned themselves into my mind: the smell of sweat, the sharp edge of a words he uttered to me between his ragged breaths, the corner of the room that my eyes locked onto, as if staring hard enough could pull me away.

and then, as suddenly as it began, it stopped. my body ached, as if it carried the weight of his actions even after he was gone. my skin didnt feel like mine anymore. i pulled my knees to my chest, hands shaking as i pressed them to my face, smearing tears i hadnt realized had fallen.

the silence that followed was worse than the noise. it sat heavy in the air, mocking me. the world outside was oblivious, unchanged— while i had become something broken, something smaller. i wanted to scream, but no sound would come.

instead, i curled in on myself, searching for the smallest space where he couldnt reach me— where no one could.