She Wasn’t the One Performing

She wasn’t ready.
That was the point.

She didn’t step forward.
She didn’t strip.
She didn’t ask for it.
She was pulled.

The crowd didn’t cheer.
They didn’t chant.
They didn’t speak at all.
They just watched.

This wasn’t about consent.
Not in the way we pretend we want it to be.
This was about gravity.
About what happens when you let go just once,
and everyone sees it.

She thought she could disappear.
Instead, she came undone.

They watched her break.
Then they watched her bloom.

Not a performance.
Not a punishment.
Not a kink.

An awakening.

She didn’t run.
She didn’t cover herself.
She didn’t try to make them look away.

She let it happen.
And in the end, she took it back.