It's been two years.
Two years since someone has touched my thighs, kissed my neck, held me in the palms of their hands.
It's been two years since that one day.
I don't blame the boy, and I sure as hell refuse to blame myself.
That time, two years ago. My mouth was held shut, my body was frozen.
It was like a car crash.
Everything stops, you don't struggle because you don't want to cut yourself on the glass flying around your head space. The air gone from your lungs, you can't scream. It all seems to happen in slow motion.
After that day. Like a dog attack, I tended to stray away from wondering eyes. Being asked what those bruises on my arms were. If the cuts on my neck and shoulders were okay.
I'm fine.
I'm Fine.
I'M FINE.
I'M FUCKING FINE.
It's been two years. And I have moved on. There is a smile I want to see every day. There is a person who makes my whole body feel happy. I don't flinch when he laughs loudly, I don't pull away when he touches me. Scars from the crash years previous have finally faded.
It's been two years.
Two years since someone has touched my thighs, kissed my neck, held me in the palms of their hands, and now I can finally let them.
