How did I get here...

it’s raining.

you wake up at the break of dawn, you’re confused.

it smells like home

you stare at the ceiling, failing to form a thought.

so you wonder,

how did I get here?

you’re eighteen, crying in the bathroom at some old mans house. you were looking for salvation in broken people, you still are.

(silly girl) you’re introduced to a new lifestyle, you fall in love with money.

home starts to become a distant memory.

as you’re running around from club to club, you start to forget the backroads that raised you. as you spend copious amounts of money and all your time trying to please people who never truly appreciate your effort, you start to forget the humbling childhood that once made you so hungry.

as you lay in his bed; nineteen, drunk on new love and Jameson - he kisses the flaws you’ve conditioned yourself to hate. he touches you in such gentle ways. you finally start to forget all the boys who stole your innocence so early, left your heart bleeding, or hurt you.

you remember every time it rained while you were together.

so how did you get here?

you’re twenty-one and have forgotten every single thing that made you who you are at this very moment.

you love rain because it reminds you of all the times it cleansed you, all the times the loyal sky cried with you. and while you danced the rain gently undressed you - of unwanted touches, of things you were just too young to see, of all the times you messed up so bad that the world felt… unbearable.

you break minor laws because you still seek a thrill that kept younger you on her toes. you never wanted comfort and you still don’t. you can’t let yourself get comfortable, because you’re scared of being stuck again - but you’re stuck now.

you keep a clean face and an inked body - your dad hates it. but you’ve been robbed and you had to find a way to reclaim your own body. you only wanted one, somehow you have thirteen.

crazy how bad people can hurt us.

so here you are, tracing new-formed cuts on your arm - remnants of last night. the rain smells. so. good. you almost forget his side of the bed is empty, it has been for awhile.

you think, you touch, you cum.

sounds suddenly fill the once quiet room, the birds sing briefly. the rain starts to pour. you wrap yourself up in fleece and fur. you listen to the rainfall. you can’t remember the last time it sounded so melodic.

you feel awake, you feel alive, you feel okay.

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©2018 by Alex De La Flor