The first, but not the last.

I’m curled up next to you.
Your shoulder is pressed into my back.
The bed is uncomfortable, lumpy.
My eyes crack open as the bed shifts.
Your hands run along my side. Your lips are at my neck.
You want me.
I’m tired. Exhausted.
But I give in.
I say okay.
You hold me tightly, the bed creaking in the silence.
My face presses into the bed.
Tears fall from my face.
I’m tired.
I’m tired.
I’m tired.
You moan.
I sigh.
You cradle my face in your hands, your own worried.
Was I hurt?
Was I okay?
Did he do something wrong?
I shake my head no.
I curl up.
The pillow is wet under my cheek as I slip into oblivion.

Photo by Marco De Waal on Unsplash

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