This weekend felt like the end of the world. I was truly at the end.
I could not see beyond, or over to the other side. In fact, there was no other side.
PTSD and flashbacks twisting and stabbing their way through my flesh, sinews, tissue. Searing the core of me.
Forced sex, psychological subjugation render me a spineless, rag doll heaped in a corner.
Heaped in a corner, but there’s still hope. Still hope. I’m still here.