You sure it wasn’t just a shitty relationship? He asks.
I answer the boy’s question with well-practiced silence.
Give into the chokehold of this quiet dehumanizing moment I had grown so used to by now.
Whisper to my body: you know what to do.
Succumb to the numbness, lose yourself to him all over again.
I remember seeing my abuser across the train platform
the way my silence met his.
the fear twisting itself between my ribs as he grinned at me,
asked if I missed him
I watched the anger flash across his face as my silence met his rage.
I got on the next train and physically collapsed,
had a panic attack that lasted an hour.
Didn’t speak for the rest of the day.