/hands/eyes/voice/man/

my be triggering

Hands; hands placed on my forearm. Fingertips grazing my bare skin. It feels like burns of a four letter words I refuse to speak aloud. His nails digging into my pale legs. He is making sure to feel every inch of my body. Thumb print bruises lay on my arms for a week. One looks as if it were a broken heart. A metaphor of my life or a sick joke God has played on my somber self. His fingers moved from my belly button to my lips. Shoving them in my mouth, as if I was somewhere more pleasurable for his wicked fantasies.

Eyes; foggy and blue. So deep you could fall in. As if his love was a cliff and if you were to go just a little too far the wind would push you over the edge. I fell in, and now I am drowning quickly and yet far too slow. His eyes occasionally stared into mine, bright blue and half closed. My eyes were just open enough to see him look down at my body. He started at my breast. Slowing raising his glance to my neck and collarbones, then my lips. Last my eyes. When he reached my dull eyes, he smiled. Maybe he was trying to make me feel better, but I just felt so much more used.

Voice; his voice echoed as he spoke the word “Halfway”. Mine was as silent as a dime to hit the floor or the creak of a door. His body laid on mine, making is difficult to breathe. It felt like I he was suffocating me just enough that I wouldn't die. This is all I could have wished for in that moment. He had an accent, a slight English edge to his piercing tone. I could feel his breath on my chest. He was breathing so deeply.

Man; 6’2, blonde hair, blue eyes, charming, fun. Sometimes your devil is disguised as your prince.