Cloudy Thoughts on Sunny Days

I stopped breathing today.

When I smelled that cheap cologne you wore.

I tried telling myself that it was just my brain playing tricks.

I kept walking.

Heart in my throat.

Fighting the memories.

I can smell blood.

Mixed with cheap Axe and sweat.

I can taste it.

Things are getting blurry.

I need to get out of here.

I can see that stoop.

The concrete shed.

The street sign.

Your face.

And in that moment I was no longer the 22 year old that worked so hard to forget.

To forget the way your voice sent shivers down my spine when you asked if I liked it.

No, at that moment I was 13 again.

Reliving my worst moments.

The moments my own body failed me.

The moments I was afraid and ashamed.

The moments I became a statistic.

I wasn’t asking for it wearing oversized jeans and a sweater 3 sizes too big.

I wasn’t asking for it when I told you no, begged you to stop.

I wasn’t asking for it when my body failed me.

I wasn’t asking for it when I stopped fighting.

I wasn’t asking for it when you were.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

I’m spiraling.

I’m losing control.

Reality is quivering under the pressure of the memories.

I didn’t want this to be me.

I can feel the blood dripping.

I can feel the scratches you engraved into my hips.

I can feel the bruises formed on my spine.

I can feel the cold concrete against my cheek.

I can feel you finish.

“I’ll be seeing you”

And with that, you left.

Me, sobbing against that cold concrete.

Me, too afraid to open my eyes.

Me, stuck in the rain, even on the sunniest of days.