This is probably something that I have written for myself, been having nightmares lately, but let me know what you think.
Your hands are cold, gripping my arms as a vice, while my eyes remain closed. I can feel somehow, with a distant knowledge that is not my own, that you do not belong here. Your fingers that strangle my flesh should not be touching me, should not be on me. I am not yours—have not been yours—for some time, though I can tell through your brown eyes that you wish that this was not so. Your eyes are familiar to me, I have known them for too long, and wish they would stop looking at me so.
You murmur quietly, your breath on my cheeks chilling me through. “I will untame you, I will fix you.”
The scent of you makes me recoil—stale cigarettes and a hint of body odor—bringing me back to that day on my mothers couch. The smoke billowing around us, wafting through the air as we sit, laughing on the couch. I smile, you are my best friend, my confidant. I remember, deep down, where my soul has done it's best to cloud the truth from my heart, but through it, I remember what took place next. You reach for me, your lips seeking mine, my heart jumps at your sudden interest in me. You had never thought of me in this way before. You're pulling me closer, crushing me to you while I futilely attempt to pull away. You lean me back on my mothers couch in a way I assume you think is romantic, your breath on me, your hands in my hair. Again I pull away, trying to free my lips from yours so I can ask you to stop. I can tell, somehow, that you know I do not want this, your fingers in my hair tighten, the hand on my arm digging into my flesh. It hurts, I finally pull my lips free, tears streaming down my face.
“Stop, please stop.”
But you don't stop, pressing kisses to my cheeks and my neck telling me that it's okay, your hand pushing up my shirt. I kick out with my feet, a knot in my gut that I had not known before. There had been others before this, those that had taken me without my consent, but never you. Not you who I trusted, not you who I had loved through the hardest of times-- not you.
My mind is in knots, I remember once, how someone had warned me of this, warned me of you. I didn't believe her.
The door opens behind us, and my mothers voice fills the house, and you jump away straightening your clothes. She walks into the room, sees my tears, sees the red on my arms and my neck where you held me down. Her eyes widen slightly, the shock at your actions as evident on her face as I am sure it is on mine. There is a pain in my belly like none I have ever known, and you are the cause.
You do not belong here, telling me that you miss me, miss your best friend. You say I have changed, say that I am not who I once was—stepping into my life like you belong. Like nothing is wrong.
But you do not belong here.
