Hollowed Out

There was this spot on the wall.
A literal dot.
It was tiny, but noticeable if you squinted enough.

That’s where I held my gaze. That’s where I slipped out of my own body and into nothing.

It usually happened in the morning.
The feeling.
The rape.

He never took his time, and I never wanted it.
It was always so quick, so silent, so sudden.

I wonder if he ever gave any thought to what he was about to do as he methodically strapped it on. I know it takes time to do that so it fits perfectly.
Enough to satisfy. 

I’d wake up with him already inside of me. Over and over again. In a house I was supposed to be a part of, in a state that I didn’t belong; both figuratively and literally.

Tennessee fucking sucks.

When he finished, I don’t remember what happened next. There was a cadence to it, but I can’t put my finger on the steps after he was done.
After he hollowed me out
for the day. for the night. for whenever he chose.

He’s married now.