I walked away. I walked away from that day. The day I told of my failures, and was dismissed. The day I told of my losing value. I walked away. Well, I thought I did. And yet I held onto those nights. Those days where uncomfortable hands were "normal." I didn't seem too scared in the moment. Just confused. And confused. And not questioning what was routine for a visit. Years of consistent images; feeling older than I was; made to know objects, and parts that were intended for married couples . . . I was confused. Uncomfortable. But not terrified of the routine. I had been taught at the young age of three, not to cry, but take the pain. To toughen up. To deal. I had been taught at the age of three to grow up.
*Part one
My Profile
- Kacee/Klayster aka Kyra Renee' Clay
- I am on a journey, as are most people. My path splits: becoming who I am destined to be, and also sharing the truth of where I have been. I AM TRAVELING TO ME.
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