Dream

I do not dare to remember.

Dreams are hurtful enough,

and the truth hurts even more.

 

The frantic, dark, nervous feeling,

that I do not dare to experience.

It is wrong.

He was completely on me.

Pushing me down.

Did I struggle?

Was I even awake?

Was I drugged?

Who was he anyway?

 

I seemed to come out of my body,

hovering above the horrible scene.

I didn’t even dare to look at myself.

 

I feel dirty,

feeled with shame.

I scrub myself with the soap sponge over and over again,

trying to rub myself clean.

Whether it happened or not,

I am somehow insecure and violated.

 

I do not dare think about the truth.

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