I don’t moveI don’t breathe.The world should have ended by now.
It’s the second time. The second time he’s stolen my breath, the second time I’ve forgotten how to exist. He’s here, right here, and yet, I’m lost.
His tongue is in my mouth, leading mine to the dance only he knows. I burn without flame. I drench without the rain. If I were the snow, I would’ve melted by now.
His hands are on me, impatient and those deadly drags of his fingers, tracing the zipper of my hoodie. Tugging, opening and letting the cold breeze hit my partially naked skin. The moment suspends in air like the rest of me, like a held note in a song that should have ended already. Reality slams into me, and I fight. I fight because I know what will happen if I don’t.
He’ll ruin meAnd God, maybe I wouldn’t be able to
