(Tw: trauma, assault)
I learn that it's all a leech, eating away at only me without thinking that
It does. Then your hand does a full 180 and makes it to my ass, like you have all the audacity to smack it and pinch it and squeeze it and talk of it all the time and expect me to let it fly. You are low. You are godless. Stop telling me
About your sex life cause I'll turn seven this August. Stop it all. Stop it.
YOU ARE READING
SUNSHOWERS
Non-FictionA book of poetry. A book of tears. A book of blood and sweat, too. A book to hold me. Will you let it hold me?
