The Word I Never Wanted to Use

It wasn't rape
I said yes, I consented to everything that was about to happen to me
He may have had to spend time trying to convince me, only to regret it in the end
And he may have touched me when I didn't want him to
In particular ways I didn't want him to
He may have even left marks on my skin, like hickeys that I never wished for
But it wasn't rape
You see, rape requires no effort on my end, it means resisting
Yet, I led him to the room it happened in just to see where it would go
I listened when he demanded I take of my clothes despite my growing fear
I let him kiss me and I kissed him back just as he had wished for me to do
I never fought him on the idea of sex then and there
So it wasn't rape
But I felt disgusting as his hands touched me in ways I cannot describe
I felt dirty, crying and pleading for a shower to wash away the feeling of his hands
I may have said yes but it didn't feel consensual to my body
I felt molested by someone I thought I loved, but he only made me hate my body more
It didn't feel like I had a choice in this situation
It was NOT rape
Even though his fingers caressed me in ways that no one had dared to
Even though his mouth kissed the places only meant to be kissed by toilet paper
Even though I ignored the devil and the angel saying don't do this, both of them knowing it was wrong
Even though I could feel dirt in places he had touched me, wanting to jump out of my skin
Even though I cried myself to sleep that night, knowing it wasn't a choice
But maybe it was rape

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