Love is just lying down and taking it

by You Have My Word

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I cannot call it abuse because I did not say “no” – because my silence was just as good as asking for it. Because at 13 how was I to know that love was not something to define by another man’s touch.

Love is just lying down and taking it. Love is not moving. Love is not making a sound or a scene. Love is not drawing attention to myself. Love is losing my body between the knotted knuckles of someone else’s hand. Love is being ok with never understanding why he just wanted to hold a good thing but didn’t think it beautiful enough to fuck.

Love is the monster when I am in the eighth grade and I do not feel like I’ve ever finished school. Stuck in the class of bleeding out my own shame not just between my legs. Stuck in the class of trying to be anyone but myself so he would find somebody else. Stuck in the class of Stuck in the class of Stuck in the Stuck Stuck Stuck— fuck!

Love is saying “yes” just because I didn’t know if anyone else could ever love me after that. Love is saying “yes” because I thought I deserved it. I deserve love, don’t I?

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