“Asking”
I once asked you, “why?” You said I was asking for it. Budding breasts peeking through a long sleeved crew neck. Bony arms accenting a lanky, curveless frame. Who can understand I didn’t want “it” though? I never asked to be afraid of sleeping on the sofa. I never asked to feel like dirt any time he met my gaze. I never asked to tremble when a date reached for my hand. I never asked for all my firsts to be marred by visions of your twisted sneer. I also never asked for forehead kisses to feel viscerally vile. I […]
The full content of this post is available to subscribers. Subscribe now or log in!
