I touched him as he told me to, it all felt wrong and as consequence I have felt putrid ever since. Believing myself to have deserved all of it because I didn't call out for help, so I must've like the violation while my family sat downstairs. I must've liked to close my eyes, taking it as it came and to 'play' along when I was asked to do all these horrid things. But as I grew older, eyes still closed. He would call me his bitch, his. Now asking if I liked it.
Maybe when you trust someone enough, it becomes easy to believe you like it too.
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon A Time, Time Stopped
PoetryDon't let your mind wander too far, for it will lose its selves - soul, thought and body. A soul that has lost its body is like a cat straying until it cannot pick up the familar scent of home anymore. It never returns, falling slave to a human God...
