Holding

My body is not your toy.

I am not your playground,
you do not get to
delve in too deep
with sweet words and
a charming smile,
and then strand me
in the cold
alone and shaken
to curl up into
the fetal position
and try to hold
myself together.

My body, feelings, heart
cannot be something
you use and destroy
at random.

I am not a doll
to be played with,
enjoyed, and
carelessly discarded.

I feel violated.
You know too much
and I feel sick.
There is bile in
my tear ducts
and tears in
my abdomen.

I'm holding myself together.

You don't get to know
these things about me.

I won't let you.

I won't ever let you
in that far again.