He took it away from me-

Not “taken” like how teenage girls

Talk about their first time

At sleepovers, over popcorn;

That kind of taking requires giving.

He took it like a thief;

He stole it from me.

That was my first.


He used force

And pressure.

Physical force,

Psychological pressure.

“Physical? Define physical

How did he ‘rape’ you?

You were kissing him, weren’t you?

You wanted him, didn’t you?

You wrote about him in your diary

You thought about what it would be like

To touch him

For him to touch you

So how, how did he ‘rape’ you?”

I don’t believe it, sometimes, but

I must come to terms with it.


He was kissing me. He was up my skirt

With his fingers

The second person to ever touch me

There, at all.

I was so uncomfortable,



I was in my Catholic school girl uniform

For God’s sake-

How seductive and how sick at the same time.

We were seconds away from the baseball field.

They were practicing;

Throwing curve balls and running bases

And so was he.

Inside a car,

He said to me

“You look mad nervous”

I said

“I’m not nervous”

So defensively;

My heart was racing.


I didn’t know why we were in a car-

I just wanted to know what it was like to kiss him.

His fingers; I kept pushing them away.

He said “Relax”

I pretended to listen.

More Kissing. Eyes closed.

Then Pressure

Inside of me.

“Oh My God”

He was inside of me.

Just like that.

I’ll never forget the way those words involuntarily came out of my mouth

When I felt it.

“Oh My God”

I opened my eyes, and his were so close to mine

He had the bluest, most beautiful eyes I have ever seen

Till this day.

I looked into them, while he was inside of me

for those few seconds.

I couldn’t speak.

I was in shock.

By the feeling,

By the yellow ring inside of his eyes,

By what just happened,

By what I will never be able to get back;

How my life just changed drastically, without my decision.

“I can’t do this”

In which he replied, “You know it feels good”


What a fucking cliché, right?

Rape. Force. Innocence. Sex. Fragility. Naivety.

All Cliché

It was taken, stolen, gone, forever.

That’s my story. That’s my fairytale.

Pass the popcorn, please.

KV ©

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