Bleeding Between My Legs.

i.

your lips were fire on my neck,
pressing closer, closer,
like you couldn't get enough.

and you went lower
and lower,
leaving slick trails of saliva on
my chest,

and only after did you ask
"did i go too far?"

ii.

you slid your hand up my shirt,
searching, slid your hand up my bra,
pushing

until you could fit it under and
caress as if you cared.

i nearly turned away but the
look in your eyes
scared me;

and then you said: "sorry."

iii.

the concrete was hard against my back
as you pushed me into the wall
and kissed me as if the world would end
tomorrow.

it felt like heaven
until your hands curved around my
back, sliding lower,
under the waistband of my shorts.

and you rubbed against me,
moaning lullabies of pleasure.

iv.

i hated how,
every time you hugged me,
i could feel you pressing against
my stomach.

v.

the first time you really, truly
touched me, you
let your hand trail a line up my skirt
and press against the line of
my panties.

closer, you wanted, closer.
but you settled yourself on touching
through the fabric.

i kept my lips knitted shut.

vi.

"did you like that?" you asked one time
and i said, "yes,

of course."

you said you could tell when i lied
but maybe you yourself are a liar.

and then, you grasped my hand and pulled
it down to the lump in your shorts.
it felt foreign, new…disgusting.

i tried not to think about it
as you groaned.

vii.

you pressed me back against a wall
and pulled my shorts down;
and then, pushing aside the other fabric,
dug a finger into me.

it hurt
like your nail was cutting scratches
on the inside of me.

when you tried to put two in,
i whimpered and asked you to stop

and you did,
then.

viii.

at first, i could handle it;
i let you do it because i loved you.

but then,
you wanted it more often,

and you were too fragile
for me to say no to.

ix.

you lifted me onto your lap
and i almost tried to slide off,
but you had your arms around me.

and you kissed me,
as i felt you grow stiff
underneath me.

and i nearly cried with relief
when someone
interrupted.

x.

you kissed me
in my most private spot
and i didn't know how to feel.

shouldn't i have been
filled with butterflies?

xi.

"are you thinking about him now?"
you asked,
as you pressed your fingers into me,
unkindly.
"are you?"

i shook my head while i willed
myself not to
hurt you

like you were hurting me.

xii.

you could shove your fingers
so far inside me, i'd feel you in the
bottoms of my stomach

and you'd bring them out and push
back in while you guided my hand
under

your zipper.

it was like pleasure and revulsion
at the same time, and revulsion always
won in the end.

xiii.

you hugged me tight once
and your hand wandered, even
as i pleaded for you to stop –

one of the only times i ignored
my fear to say no –

and you just said

"i love you"

xv.

my love for you has faded
but i know

it's my own fault
i have these awful memories.