Once again, I felt your hand on my body.
Once again, I felt death.
I want to cry. I want to shout.
And this time, I worked hard to do it.
But your hand stopped me.
Held me down. Silenced me.
I feel helpless.
I feel worse.
I still remember, very clearly —
when you said it’s a game.
And every time-every single time —
I told myself… this is the last time.
But how can I trust my own words
when they already feel like a lie?
And it’s over.
You left me there —
like a dead body.
A cold, dead body.
The last time…
I repeat.
Also Read:
Leave a Reply