Consent

Sounds rolled off her tongue

Like a waterfall in her young mouth,

Every night spent awake

Every smile she gave that dark ceiling over her consciousness

Every lip numbing hummmm

She sang to that kind sky

Clinging to her pink blanket.

She sits, grasping her cloth shield

Locked away in the yellowing

pages of my mind

New paragraphs changing her story into mine.

Dark white leers on my memories

A sky

A ceiling

That makes my skin crawl

Pinned down by my own

Three letter prison sentence

"Yes"

That did not roll off my lips

But tore and shredded it's way,

Forced out of me.

The young girl from those

Old pages in my head

Sits confused

Unsure

She no longer has a place in

My changed mind, so different from

The fertile earth she used to walk.

Changed not out of choice.