i’ve learned to look at the floor when men speak to me i’ve stopped trying to share charming anecdotes over dinner because you always finish them for me and i certainly don’t dare laugh at anyone’s jokes not even your closest friends’ because we’ve all seen what happens when a smile creeps across my lips that you didn’t put there i put on my shortest dress and highest heels so that you can show me off while simultaneously keeping a possessive hand around the back of my neck my will has atrophied in my chest my feelings stick in my throat never forming words i forgot that i had a voice long
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