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Have you ever been blinded by love? Have you ever let yourself fall down the rabbit hole with someone you trusted? I fell hard, and I'm still trying to get up. 

Three years ago, I gave pieces of my life to a boy who would never love me as much as I loved him. When I say "gave" I really mean that he took them without asking and swallowed them whole. This boy took all I had to offer and left me with nothing. We lived our lives between sunny smiles and harsh arguments. Our relationship was too hot, too heavy, too soon. I was a good, God-fearing girl, and I wasn't planning on compromising my integrity for a silly boy, but he had other plans. All the rules I had about my body were disregarded. I was touched when I asked to be left alone, I was manipulated into being who he wanted me to be. For a year, I was taken advantage of again and again, and it took me a long time to come to terms with this. I'm afraid of Toyota Corollas, and green sleeping bags. I can't feel my toes when I think of his warm skin touching mine, and my hair stands on end when I drive past the street where we had our first kiss. I wish I could take it all back, but I know I can't. I'm finding that turning my pain into art is going to be my only saving grace; other than Beyoncé. My mom tells me I'm strong, and I can feel it. I have the strength bubbling up inside me, and I'm ready to let it erupt. Finally ready to heal from this mess of a life he's caused. 

The Last Time I Went to Church

I sit in this chapel holding hands with the devil. 

When I met you, I found out that hell was real, 

And the demons wear Dolce and Gabbana cologne. 

I try to ignore the excitement in your church pants, 

(Which are way too tight),

And the panic begins. 

I just satisfied your hunger, 

But I can already tell you're going to want seconds as soon as we leave this "safe haven." 

The sermon cannot heal the wounds you caused an hour ago, 

And I can feel the fire still under your skin. 

You're ready to consume all with your hell-flames, 

And God cannot help me hide. 

So I sit in this chapel with charred hands. 

Unable to escape from your grasp, 

I've learned to treat my third degree burns.

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