Walked Home

You know so I don’t get “raped.” He meant it as a simple gesture and instead I had to stop myself from falling for him again. If only you knew how much you walking me home meant to me. I’d kill to have someone want me to be safe. Yet there’s a shadow on the happieness of having his company.

One day I’m gonna meet a guy and he’s gonna want me to be safe, and I’m going to have to tell him the story. Part of me wants to tell everyone and get it the hell over with, and then part of me never wants to tell a soul because I don’t want to look into the eyes of someone else and hear the words escape my mouth. I just want to curl around his arm and tell him to protect me because once someone violated me, and I want him to kiss my head and say “Never again.”

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