How you ever got as close as you can to being raped but couldn't file a case because you said yes to him, but that was not you, that was the fine powdered drug talking. How you did not understand what kissing meant when you were just a little girl, and how he locked you in a cabinet for him to caress.
How, each time somebody pierces into your welcoming flesh, you reach for the elusive happiness that they say you will never have. How every physical pleasure would rapture you emotionally. How you have learned to make love with your body, how you have decided you will never really need somebody else in order to smile.
How your throat dried and your tears leaked? How you promised yourself that you will not cry again, each time you cry again. How you remember the scent of cigarettes and beer and regret?
How you have let yourself be affected over and over again by the full secret that you can never tell? How you realized they will never really know what it felt like because it was not their body?
Miss Yam, do you remember how much you wished you got paid for what you did? For then it wouldn't have felt like you were abused.
