<<DISCLAIMER:: this work is based off my own experiences with a sensitive topic that not a lot of people may be comfortable reading.>>

I can feel his hands on me,

even after the damage is done.

but my mind still remembers,

my body frozen in fear.

I couldn’t scream,

or make a small squeal.

there was no noise,

just a ringing in my ears.

a part of me died in that room,

I can’t remove that part of me now.

sometimes I wake in sweat,

with tears trickling down my face.

the moment I stopped fighting,

was the moment I began to feel lost.

my body didn’t feel like mine,

my body was no longer my temple.

it is a reminder,

to a question I ask myself.

“who’s there left to trust?”