(Content Note for child sexual abuse)

I promise I am working on a lighter, happier post for later this week but for now this is what’s on my heart thanks to a night terror/flashback I had recently:

Don’t Touch Me

I was four and I wanted nothing more

Than for you to never touch me again

Don’t touch me, don’t touch me

This body isn’t yours

Don’t touch me, don’t touch me

You don’t get to own me

Hands off, you will never touch me again

Hands off you’re never getting in

Don’t touch me, don’t touch me.

DON’T TOUCH ME, I said. Don’t touch me.

I was never safe with you but they trusted you…

So, I trusted you too.

This was not a game like you said.

This was not your domain. This is mine. Now stay away. 

You told me to come out from under the desk, to move my hands away from clutching my chest as I curled up in the fetal position, making myself small and invisible–hiding from you.

You told me to come out of the bathroom, that it would be ok, that I should stay…

And not run to my parents and far away from you.

No. No, no, no, no, NO.

Don’t fucking touch me.

You will never touch me again.

Now maybe my life can begin.