"i think you're lying to yourself," you say. and i
break, taken back in an instant
to a blurry night seven months ago,
a night i've never spoken of aloud.

and i am in a dark room
hazy with sweet smoke he coughs
in my face until i can't breathe. a
small fan is on to mask the hateful smell
because he promised he would quit and i
pretended to believe his empty words. suddenly he is
heavy on top of me whispering something
in my ear and his fingers are inside of me regardless of
my protesting hands. my eyes are open and
i suffocate. there are teeth and there is fear and he is so much
bigger than i am as i silently beg him to stop.
but he finishes and kisses me and
throws away the condom and my socks
are on and he doesn't watch me get dressed.

now here we are, sitting on my back step,
and i apologize over and over for falling apart.
you don't even know why. but i am afraid
that i did this to myself, that i somehow asked him
to do this.

("i think you're lying to yourself," you said to me
smiling wide)