it's not your fault,

A note from a survivor, Your skin, worn down thin as paper and the only feeling you have are his finger tips across your skin. each as it's own blade creating invisible scars with every touch. you don't even try with "no, I don't want to tonight" anymore, you know it just ends the same, you lie there and wait and yet somehow, you still think, it's still your fault, because you let him, you only muttered a quiet "I don't know.." when he started. but it is not, no one knows; that no matter how hard you scrub your skin, you still feel dirty. no matter how many times you tell yourself it's not your fault, you still fall back to "I don't know.." suffocating isn't it. -S it's not your fault, it's not what you were wearing, or doing, or saying, or even what "signals" you were giving off. nothing is an invite except for an obvious yes. it is never on you, and always on them.