My soul is a flower those pigs like to eat.

Trigger Warning.

i realized what happened yesterday could've gone wrong if I didn't scream and cry as he backed out of fear. But, he probably would still keep going because he's a man in front of a vulnerable girl. 

And it makes me sick. As problems stack on top of each other, I do nothing but look in the mirror and not recognize myself anymore. 

Instead, I see an object. An epitome of desperation.

I feel my body worshipped at the wrong temple. With dimmed lights. He touches and caresses me. The price I pay for temporary affection. Kisses with a deadline, and feelings that wears a mask. A sweet smile with sinister intentions.

When my emotional get real and I tell him I want him, he backs out, overwhelmed. Sees me lower than my height, sees me under his feet, he sees me as a flower he benefits from but can never care for. 

Off to a man I ran, heartbroken, I held the shards in my hands. I present these broken pieces to be heard. So why did he attempt to pull my pants down? Why did he want to visit the withering lotus that's been defiled for the sake of borrowed desire? 

I scream and shout. He almost didn't stop. He snapped out of it. He withdrew. I watched as he turns his back and walks away, no longer satisfied with me. 

A plucked abandoned flower discarded in a desolate man's world. Far from the Garden of Eden.