Do you remember your first kiss?
Dreamy, wasn't it?

That feeling of his hair between your fingers while he cocooned your waist,
he said your lips have magic to them,
you blushed and looked away.

But you know why I don't remember my first kiss?

Because he never asked.

Sitting in that alley,
was a fool for believing that only words would be between us.
It's quite a sad memory.

I felt his hands come up first, then his mint breath that smelled like shit rotting in a drain
but his lips were something I wanted to just burn then.

Because consent was as non-existent as the purity of my first kiss.
You remember those dreamy eyes he looked at you with?
But his ravaging eyes had already crushed my whimsically ridiculous dreams.
His hands felt like handcuffs of heated iron,
my trust broken and my senses as numb as ice on a zit.

You know, they told me it was just a kiss
and I should stop being a baby about it but isn't that just so mean.
I really try not to remember when I kiss Andrew
but he's a sweetheart who carries my baggage like his own weight,
people tell me I should have been grateful that I wasn't raped but should I really thank god for that?

Good god, it's a sick world we live in,
would you like to be on a planet where violations are treated like levels of a video game?

first kisses weren't so dreamy after all.