BACK ALLEY 15

trauma rot!

*tw sexual assault! 

the back of my mouth tastes like spit slick vomit burns like venom itches like i've just gotten off of my knees. i'm fifteen and i've vacated my body a thousand times over just to make space for boys with hunched alien bodies and gleaming wolf eyes. i'm fifteen and at night i try to pry off a hundred hydra hands until i wake up sticking to my bedsheets like a used condom. ha. at least i'm not empty. the names and the smells and the certain shades of light and corners of town gumming up the sides of my throat in nervous masses like gutter rot. all i remember is the sick black feeling of being pushed back down. i don't remember when he stopped, but i wish he'd seen it through instead. rape would have let my heart recoil. rape would have swallowed up the buts in my chest and left no room for running back.