Instinctively, I search for you.
You, the one who tore through my flesh
only to pronounce me "not good enough".
Not good enough.
You were not the first to say such things,
but you were the original pioneer
to melt away my thighs and give way to a monster.
The memory of you has become just that
and it feeds off my loneliness
and it thrives off your deceit
and it has embedded itself in my brain.
And I will remember the way you forced your hand down my pants
as you pleaded that you loved me,
but you abused my body.
You were just a boy,
but you had the hands of a man
that knew exactly what they were doing.