How about this?
You touched my skin and forced your soul into me.
You hot room consuming me until the breath inside of me was gone.
Toxic sounds filled the room as my body refused yours.
You did it without consent.
Your skin harmed mine.
But maybe it was your mind that did it.
You did it for two days. Tied to a twin size bed and filled to the brim with heroine.
Beaten and bleeding and broken. Leaving your house was the only time I didn't let you see me cry.
-M
YOU ARE READING
Warmth
PoetryThese are a few memories and letters and stories from my mind and imagination. ----- Photo credits to myself, but art credits to the artist.
