What a great night it was, recall on the dances before too, all were fun. The winter home coming was my first formal. Me in my short green dress, flaring out like a cupcake, my friend in the same style but blue, and my boyfriends in his suit.
It was his first dance that he presented Male, it was my first dance I was groped at. My best friend dragged me to the dance floor, right by the grind pit. I don't remember the song but I remember my dance. I remember the slow sway that my hips did and the smile on my face.
I remember the senior boy's hands that gripped my shoulders as he grinded on me. I remember the pure fear that consumed me and how. I stopped dancing and smiling. I remember he was my neighbor and on the swim team with me. I remember the panic attacks I had, wanting to tear off my skin.
That dance was my first formal, but also my first sexual assault. Although it happened, I'll continue to go to the dances. It's a cycle that I hope doesn't end with assault.
YOU ARE READING
poetry from my different sides
PoetryI'm just a insecure trans teen suffering from mdd, gad, pmdd, and an ed. This is a poetry collection covering most of my problems causing my ed so trigger warning. In no way do I encourage anorexia, it is a monster, be safe and get out while you st...
