the first time

Trigger warning: domestic abuse
the first time… the first time,
was the worst time,
almost, forgiven.
in a place where people,
associated,
normalise,
turn you away,
it will be ok!
but its not OK!
I felt your hand on my skin,
and my body froze,
my arm it clenched,
and my stomach wretched,
it wont happen again… then a shove,
a push,
a deliberate nudge,
knocked me further back… it hurt more… knowing the one person… who is supposed to be by your side,
is attacking your side,
pushed up against the wall,
shoved hard on to the floor,
your sorry!
your sorry!
but I can’t take anymore from anybody.

just like the first time,
I’m stuck in a loop of absolute shock,
why did you hurt me?
and in my head,
my body deserts me,
I am defenseless,
and see no point in telling somebody else,
to see if they will attempt to stop you too,
because the more people know,
the more they abandon me,
like you’ve abandoned me.

the first time,
just like the first time,
feels and hurts and is sore like the first time,
and the emotional scars,
allow the last time to feel like the first time,
I’ve accepted that healing takes time,
in the end it maybe fine,
but the images and the knowledge that it happend,
stays with you,
like the first time.

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