![]() ![]() You would demean me in the car and tell me how “stupid” I was for not finding directions fast enough. You forced me not to wear a bra because I belong to you, and these are your boobs, not mine, as you would say, and “they are little girl boobs anyway.” When you were satisfied with making me look like hell, we would leave the house to go somewhere you liked. You pulled me into the bathroom to turn the shower on me fully dressed, ruining my makeup and hair and wardrobe because it wasn’t to your liking. You look better without it.” It was a soft reminder at first, and then it turned into a demand. You picked me apart until there was nothing left. You would tell me that’s what a real woman looks like. The only times I saw you happy was when you were physically torturing me or looking at other women while you were with me. I preferred the times that you slept all day because of your depression and ignored me versus the time you were fully present and took pleasure in my pain. Sometimes I prefer the ice over the burn. ![]() ![]() Your touches burn, and sometimes they feel like ice. You are no Prince Charming, and this is no Fairytale. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |