content warning: this poem deals with sexual abuse

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget. The feeling is burned into my memory.

My back pressed against the wall, his calloused hand gripping my neck.

His knee pushed between my legs, the tight feeling in my chest as I gasped for air.

The sound the zipper on my white cargo pants makes when it’s unzipped too hastily.

The voices of young kids running through the stairs on their way to their next class nearly 7 stories below us.

I will never forget holding my head in my hands as I sat in the corner of that stairwell crying all alone.

Trying to cover myself with my clothes again. My hands shaking and my neck bruised.

Trying to hide what he did to me. Just wanting to get back to class. Trying to convince myself I was going to survive.

I am revisiting and uploading these poems in honor of a much younger me. I have healed to a degree she did not believe was possible. I have found such joy and wonder in the world in the years that have passed. I am sharing her words because I know there are others who feel like she did and I need you to know one thing: even when it feels like the end, even when it feels like you will never recover, you can do it. You can keep pushing forward and I promise you will find light at the other end. You are loved and treasured always.