It Takes

3:16AM

Recorder clicks. A breath. Then—

-

So...

I let it happen.

-

Not because I was lonely—

though maybe I was.

Not because I didn’t know better.

I knew better.

-

But it was there.

And it didn’t blink.

And it didn’t beg.

It just waited.

-

And I thought—

if I could touch something wrong enough,

maybe it would burn the rest of me clean.

-

It didn’t.

-

It filled me.

With heat. With silence. With teeth.

-

And I liked it.

God help me, I liked it.

Even when it stopped feeling like pleasure

and started feeling like revelation.

-

Now I sleep

with the light off.

I listen

for footsteps that never come.

-

And every time someone touches me,

I wonder—

can they tell?

Can they feel

what's still inside me?

-

Because I do.

-

I still do.

-

click.