Last night I tasted the blood from biting my lip because I couldn’t say no loud enough.
I swear I screamed it
but I must of went silent
for my throat was cut from his tongue.
in that moment with his tongue sliding in me
I wish I was a cup of coffee
a pair of fuzzy socks
a bowl of rotten fruit
anything but a woman.
I didn't feel like one anyways
turned into a corpse to be examined
my skin to be burned
peeled
anything to remove his scent.
the imprint of his body
his breath on my neck made me feel so ugly
yet so familiar
being used for the one thing I can’t control.
maybe that's why I truly hate my body
not for my twigs of arms
or acne sprinkled all over me
but because I know what I contain
and what they all want from me.
“doesn't it feel good, don’t you want this?”
he says
it wasn't sex so it wasn't assault right?
it was with a boy I liked so much, so it wasn’t assault right?
my tears are dramatic
its not that serious
right?
I was never his to touch
but of course he still did
my bare skin is for my eyes
not his widened, desperate, hungry ones.
there was no welcome sign inviting him in
there were many nos said and hesitation showed
he went deaf from his lust
blind from his craving.
I loved how he held my hand
until I realized all he wanted was more.
touched by the wrong person
who I thought was the right one.
how did it switch so quickly?
one moment we’re smiling at each other through bites of pizza
to the next my shirt is gone, my bra now his hands
tasting the saucy cheese through this boys mouth as he wasn’t hungry for food.
now I hate pizza
my tongue rejects my old favorite food.
there was a time where I felt understood from him
but was I studied for my mind
or my curves, my skin
did he even know the color of my eyes?
the ruffled groans did lots of talking as I couldn’t move
nails dug in my skin
hearing
“stay right here”.
beneath a smile as pretty as his
a laugh as contagious
is a boy who maybe just wanted this all along.
was it genuine
or was this always the goal?
faking the hangouts and the poems written just to please the girl that is labelled as “too easy”.
the look in your eyes wasn't love
even though those words were said on top of me.
finally
I break
running free
you holding me back, saying
“next time on a bed please?”
I shake driving home
tears fogging my vision
wishing
I could've been heard
accepted for wanting nothing
understood that I wasn't ready.
so you go on not hurt from a night of pleasure
I stand naked in the mirror
mascara dripping through what he has now seen
thinking
why is it continuing to be me
what is wrong
with
me?
--Sam Spanach, sam.spanach9 on Instagram 05/01/2026
Theme : Betrayal