Experiments.

I'm not afraid of you. My body might shake, tears may also come to the encounter of my eyes and roll down my temples. I'm sorry if I look at you with widely open, terrifyed eyes. Forgive me for I can't talk. I can not help it. That is not me, not my current me at the very least..., that's someone from the past, looking at you through me.

She knows it's fine, she knows you wont hurt her, but yet she knows nothing about love or sex. She only knows violence and rape. She's a kid who likes to play the grown up.

But don't worry, because I keep telling her it will be okay, although as every stuborrn af teenager, she wont believe me just yet. You just keep holding her. Embrace her so she knows what tenderness is. Hold her wrists, so she realizes it's just skin against skin, as your body upon hers, skin is harmless per se. Please, keep on pressing your hand on her lips, so she can kiss your palm when she is ready to let go of all the fears. Keep caressing her lips, her chin, please, uncover her long enough to kiss her. She might breathe heavily, but understand she has her own struggles. She must face now the fact that what once ruined her is now pleasurable, acceptable, but we can make it..., you and I, together, can make her understand that love comes in all formats, but pain is not one of them.