(TRIGGER WARNING IN ADVANCE: SEXUAL ASSAULT)

With your cigarette smoke and the alcohol left on your lips,

your cheap cologne clouding the air,

it was hard to breathe.

As you beat me into the mattress, it was hard to breathe.

I can still feel the sheets getting caught in my mouth while I gasp for air, catching only thin fabric between my lips.

I still feel my hair wrapped around your fist as you take what you believe is yours.

I still feel the rope biting my skin.

I still feel your friends lips on my body as you give him a turn.

I still feel the warmth you both left inside me.

I still feel the scalding water I let cascade down my body to burn away your touch.

I still feel the bruises you left; I could point them out as if I could see them still.

It’s been years.

But I still feel it.

Everything.

I still hear your laugh.

The way you’d hum as you played guitar.

The way you smiled when you tried to teach me.

How you’d hold my hand when we walked.

But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change what you did or justify the way you treated me.

I know that now.

The old me believed the mask you’d wear around others.

But I see the monster you really were.