I remember

I remember the way your hands felt cold soft small a million other words could describe your weapons I remember saying no you said what you did didn't mean anything I remember believing you I remember trusting you I remember that you got so used to doing it that you would do it to me in school in a classroom in a hallway in a bathroom anywhere you could subtly slip your hands where they didn't belong, you would I remember feeling your hands under my clothes I remember feeling awful because I thought I was letting you do this I remember letting the word "no" slip away from our interactions little by little until I never said it again simply because it didn't work I remember when you broke up with me the wave of relief when you finally got sick of me I remember my body becoming mine again