History class was my favorite.

I know that seems like a boring thing to say, but it’s nice

To enjoy something once in a while

I sat there ready to detail every part of our country’s history

Ready to learn how to prevent what has happened in the past

I got goosebumps

And I couldn’t tell what from

Until my eyes shifted to my left thigh

There were your ungovernable fingertips

Sliding up and down without a care in the world

I could feel your nails digging into my untarnished skin

I froze

My breath boiling up to my tear ducts

Fear spilled out of my eyes

At least it would’ve if I didn’t have notes to take

The tears would have ruined my binder

For eight months

seconds seemed slower 

For eight months

I wanted to melt into the floor 

But your grasp on my body stunted my voice

I couldn’t choke out the word “no.”

Maybe it was God who would pull you away from me 

Perhaps it was the universe who would gift me my autonomy

Maybe not

I went back to learning about the American Revolution

My notes got sloppy

My hand never raised

I wish it weren’t that way

Science class is my favorite