Small

     I was small, inside. My little self writhing, squirming at the thought of your hands. And they were so big. You were so big. And I knew that my body seemed big on the outside. My breasts fully developed, my ass already plump, I spoke as if I knew things, but I knew nothing and you knew that. If I start from the beginning I remember when my five year old self saw you for the first time and thought you were perfect. I always remembered your smell. Cologne mixed with alcohol, it was important that no one knew. It was a beer for breakfast, rum for lunch and dinner. A functioning alcoholic you called yourself, because of course that made sense. Your voice resonated in my head, strong. You had the largest vocabulary of anyone I had ever met. And I secretly wanted to be you. I wanted to be the female version of you. Literate, well liked, with hidden demons, hidden enough that they made you mysterious and dark. Until I met your demons, they couldn’t stay hidden anymore. The demons that made you raise your hand at women and then send them flowers. The demon that would verbally attack and made all self confidence disappear, then use that sultry voice to make sure everything became right. I met the alcohol demon that controlled you, who you were not willing to let go of. And at my oldest around you, I met the demon who didn’t even know me, the one that put his hands all around me. The one that my little self screamed at to stop. The one that kept on seeing your mouth crash into mine, your tongue slither down my throat. The demon that saw the adult outside but knew nothing of the little girl that wanted to be just like you. The little girl you destroyed that day. But you exist in my DNA. And I can still smell you, I will forever hear your voice in my head. But I don’t know if I can hide my demons. Mine that at times are so identical to yours and now I want to be nothing like you.