staircase.
he grabs my waist,
hard enough to hurt
walking his hands up my
thighs
groping parts of me i
never thought of
and hoping im not just a doll,
i pull him closer,
and i let him touch me
not because i want to,
but because i have to
YOU ARE READING
tell me how to be
PoetryNO.1 in #loveisdead **trigger warning** a disjointed poetry volume that spans through the topics of politics, self harm, rape, abuse, eating disorders, feminism so on and so forth.. scroll through the contents and there might be something that you...
