It feels as if it’s written on my face. 

Like all other emotions I carry; out in the open. 

Of course it was me that gave that availability, right? 

I’m Right. 

But I had no idea how wronged I had been. 

Gaining a new letter with each attack. 

Looking in the mirror, disgusted for all the errors I thought had been flagged through my newly downloaded server and programming. 

The new list of ethics that now controlled my body and theirs – 

Had a grip, I wanted to escape, but couldn’t. 

Consonant #1, of an alternating sequence, prevailed. 

Faint, but bold. 

Walking down the hallway in the crowd of eyes and hands had made my skin crawl with irritation and goosebumps – placebo forms of trauma. 

Spanning from my knuckles to the small gap of revealed skin from where my sneakers and jeans failed to meet. 

Chants of encouragement pushing me into the lion’s den as I was but a seal. 

Did they know that I was slowly being pinned to a wall? 

Would they have still cheered for me? 

Why does a figure shaped as you, even remotely send mine into a frenzy? 

Why does your shape even resemble what it did five years ago? 

…I know mine doesn’t. 

My fight or flight mode activates but all I do is freeze. 

Is this what love is supposed to feel like? 

I genuinely thought… I don’t know what I thought. 

And although a foreign entity had not tore my flesh apart, 

What had happened was enough for me to not be alright. 

What had happened was enough for me to feel disgusted with her body and how stupid I claimed her to be, to allow such things. 

Ocean water obliterates my sight 

And bruising penetrates my consciousness.

That little girl is not alright.  

Picking and peeling her scars only for them to reappear more noticeable. 

That little girl is not alright. 

And she soon won’t be.