I tell him how the reaction from my community was in some ways worse than the abuse.
Feet flat on the floor, focus on the details of the world around you.
kay, I’ll play
Lost my gold star
But he’s lying about his age. But there’s the pile of meds he takes every morning, the run-in with pneumonia from a few years ago, the spotty work history and the disability pension from something you haven’t heard of yet.Remember what happened the last time you talked away your worries and trusted someone who touched you in the dark raw bloody place—now you have PTSD for the rest of your life.
I want I am ashamed
So you had a bad breakup, You gave your power away, You didn’t set boundaries like you should have
Is that why?
Here are my insides, do you like them?
How can anyone possibly rape anyone else, how does a person even do that?
What the fuck am I?
come back, come back, come back
good job, good job, I’m so proud of you
Katherine Scott Nelson (Scott, they/them) writes fiction and creative nonfiction. Their novella, Have You Seen Me, was published by the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography, and their short stories and essays have been featured in Ninth Letter, Confrontation, Whiskey Island, and elsewhere. They live in Southern California.
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