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First times 
are meant 
To be special 
Or so I wish.

With a lack 
Of experience
And a timid 
Demeanor,

I never learned
How to say no
To a person
That I liked.

When I look
Back on it now,
I think to myself,
How stupid could I be.

Our very first date,
In an empty cinema.
I heard the clink 
Of his belt buckle undone.

Tension held on
As he took my hand
And guided it
To what he pulled out.

His breathing grew heavy,
And I sat stiff
As he moved my hand
Against his.

I should have said no,
But I wasn’t taught how.
Uncomfortable
As he asked 
If I’d put my mouth around.

I shook my head,
Shaky 
And nauseas with fear
As I pulled my hand back.

He claimed ‘blue balls’
And asked if I knew
What that was.
I didn’t.

Every time he touched me
Or the very least tried,
I’d grow sick
And he, upset.

He yelled at me once,
For getting sick to my stomach.
I didn’t know he’d yelled
Until someone told him off.

He’d apologize,
But only half hearted.
It was clear from day one,
What his intentions were.

‘I need to get laid’
He’d tell me on repeat.
Guilt sucked me dry,
But that was what he wanted. 

First times
Are meant to be special
Or at the very least,
Consensual.

After the first,
I was glad
Nothing more happened,
Or I’d regret. 

But in the second half,
I grew comfortable.
Believed he was 
A changed man.

How silly of a thought,
For someone like me,
To be so naive,
I’d given in.

First times should be special. 
That’s how I wanted mine.
Instead, what I got
Was not even a choice.

In the secret of the bed,
Doing nothing more than touching,
He guided his
And my head tilted back.

When he told me
‘It’s in’,
I almost felt sick.
Why hadn’t he asked?
Where was my consent?

My thoughts became muddled,
Filled with disbelief.
It couldn’t be, could it?
But he confirms it the next day.

I sit on the thought
That my first time 
Was taken from me
Without question.

But if I were to tell someone,
They wouldn’t care.
It could count as rape,
If it never happened again.

It happened more times 
Than I can count
(that’s a lie, I could),
With my consent
This time.

If I had it my way,
I’d go back
And do it over again.

I wouldn’t let him touch me,
Because my body rejected.
I should have listened then
Instead of crying and begging.
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