24th March 2014.

The shrink was unenthusiastic about your next meeting.

You remember your first, she smiled alot when she discovered you were only 21, her warm forced smile met your cold unmoving face. You thought psychiatrists had a general grave look, maybe she kept the serious looks for her older clients or maybe it was your story. She asked alot of direct questions you didn't want to answer.

Now she looked at her watch too frequently, allowing the awkward silence engulf the both of you.

You lay on her leather couch staring blankly at the white ceiling as you thought of how you allowed all those men wound your human with their horns. How you felt yourself disappear as each man spread you open and ransacked you.  When you mistook your nights for lonely because your bed had so much space despite your many pillows, nights when you saw your own life, clear enough to recognize it as the driest desert of lonely, nights when the silence allowed your own mind to judge you. You  looked for a reason to forget so you let strangers hold you a little too tight.

Your father did not understand how his daughter's name was on the lips of all of his friends, how they had touched her most intimate places. How you watched your father crumble in front of you in unbelieving tears, how his grief told you you didn't love yourself.