My pussy knows more about men than I do.
Short fragments
Scraps
Small pieces. Sharp thoughts. The things I leave behind when a full confession would say too much.
They never touch me the way they look at me.
Sometimes I feel like I’m not even there anymore. Just a body doing its job.
I don’t even know what “normal” is anymore. And I don’t want to.
Today I was used. But I used it too.
It’s not a choice anymore. It’s what I am.
I’ve said “today is the last time” so many times that I don’t even believe myself anymore.
He kissed me like he hated himself.
Today I said “I’m done.” Ten minutes later, I was getting fucked again.