I am 16, frivolous, and on my first date.

I do not know that it isn’t a real date.

Or what dates even look like.

All I know is what I see from TV.

That guys are suppose to pay.

And he does. Pulls out a thick ballot of cash,

I do not ask where he got it from.

Why it smells weird.

For weeks, I didn’t ask any questions.

Why he only called once a week,

Why every date after the first was just me meeting him at the Y.

The last time I see him,

my butt, mush  into a chair, leaves an imprint of boredom,

while I wait for him to finish playing basketball.

He comes down, sees me on the phone and asks who it is.

I ignore him but can feel him chafed and surged.

He grabs my arm,  pulls me into the hall,

doesn’t care that he can feel my bones in his grip.

He tells me to stop being stupid.

And I had never seen anything blacker than his eyes.

I tell him, I am ready to go home.

He makes me hold his hand as we walk out.

I am speechless, my throat, scared and split shut.

He asks for a kiss.

They say the third time's a charm,

but don’t tell you that the fourth is venom.

That the fourth time he asks, he won't ask again.

He shoves me into a mailbox.

Grabs my face like a baskteball

And forces his tongue down my throat.

When he's done, he makes me walk the rest of the way alone.

2 weeks later, he calls.

Demands that I come downstairs to see him.

Before I can say no he is fisted and fire-eyed.

I am almost crying, hands shaking like seizures.

I don’t know what he is capable of,

But I didn’t doubt he would go one step further.

Years later and I still can’t find peace.

Anger has kicked my soul out of it’s body.

I’ll be asking God for peace as long as I live.

I need peace.

Pieces to switch my puzzle of heart break into a new picture.

Years later and I wonder what could’ve become of him.

How many grabs and shoves before I was too bruised to know the difference.