Remembering how to forget.

My body is a aching, trembling, 

thinking about him. How he 

held my shoulders down, then used his right hand to 

squeeze the life out of my throat. I remember, 


He wore a red polo shirt. It might have been cute, 

if it wasn’t for the way he used it to muffle my screams . 

They couldn’t hear me, maybe they didn’t want to. 

Maybe the blaring music downstairs was too loud, 

maybe they didn’t know what to do. 

I didn’t want to, I said no. 

He didn’t listen  none of them listened. 

Maybe, they couldn’t hear me over the sound of my heart 

shattering in my chest  


i am trying to move on, to forgive my body. 

To become myself again. 

Im not doing a good job. 

I am lost, 

maybe, this is how it will always be. to constantly remember. 

I am scared to give him more than he has already taken from me. 

It’s taking time, time I 

maybe need to remember how to forget. 

This poem is about: 


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