My Senses Know You Against Their Will

Dear Ty,

I can still feel you.

I can still feel your hand on my upper thigh.

As you tried to take more,

of what you knew wasn’t yours.

Yes, I can still FEEL you Ty.

It’s been three and a half years, but it doesn’t feel that way.

No, it feels like it was just yesterday.

Because I still panic when touched

and sob when I fully face what you did head on.

Did you even think about ME for one second?

Did you even consider how it might make ME feel?

Never mind, I don’t want to know,

because if you did, and didn’t stop,

then that means that you’re even sicker than I thought.

And I can still hear myself,

telling you “No,”

but you just pretended not to hear,

or more likely you just didn’t care,

and continued your pursuit like you had no soul.

What made you do it?

I want answers!

I want to know why you felt that it was alright,

why you felt that it was your right.

And I want an apology!

I want you to say that you’re sorry.

I want you to look me in the eyes,

and apologize,

and mean it!

And I can still see, the text that you sent,

after I finally got away,

that said: “You left without giving me a kiss,”

as if I should have thanked you?

As if I should have stayed?

As if I should have felt honored?

As if it were okay?

But it wasn’t okay! And it never will be!

Because you took something from me.

Yes, I say “Took” because I didn’t give it,

and now, because of what YOU did,

I’m locked in this prison.

This Prison of shame, This Prison of blame,

This Prison of Lies, This Prison that binds,

This Prison of confusion,

This Prison that makes me feel

like I’m No. Longer. Human.

And I can still taste

the disgust on my tongue,

every time that I speak your name,

and know that, in the end,

I’M going to be blamed.

Because you are a man and I am a woman

so, therefore, I had to have been “asking” for it,

but I promise you that I wasn’t “asking” for it!

I never once asked you to touch me.

You never once asked if you could.

You just put your hand on me

because for some reason you thought that you could.

And every time that I pushed your hand away

you just got stronger, tried harder, tried to go farther,

because you didn’t like that I didn’t call you “king”

and allow you to have all of the power.

And I can still smell you Ty.

I didn’t even know that you had a smell-

until now.

You smell like bad intentions,

mixed with disgust,

and a side of entitlement,

and another side of contempt.

You smell like the death of my trust,

and the birth of my unease,

and the arrest of my joy,

and the torture of my dreams.

You smell like

my worst nightmare.

You are

my worst nightmare.

Both awake and asleep.

Worst Regards,

Hannah