Thinking

He asked me what I was thinking
when he had his hand down my pants.
I said, "why does he want to do this?
This feels very weird."

But in reality, my mind was screaming.
It was saying, "No. stop. I don't want this."
while the demons replied "Yes you do.
This is what you get. You deserve this.
You fucking slut."

If he would have actually asked me
"How are you feeling?"
I would have broken down.
I would have asked him to take me home.

I would have yelled no and stop.
But I didn't.
I just stayed.
Silent.

And my silence
is what keeps me awake at night.
My silence is the price
I pay for being a slut.