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this is the pain of a childhood trauma that followed my through life.

seven years

Flowersby lr21 Feb 2019

isn't it beautiful
that it only took seven years
for my body to regenerate,
for me to become something
that you've never touched

hopelessly, even though
every square inch of me is new,
your touch is still burned into me
like a cigarette put out in an ash tray.

my fingertips are new,
yet i can still recall yours
and the way they took my innocence
while i crumbled into the arms of a stuffed animal.

i long for the day where the memory of you
dissipates from my mind,
the day where your saliva evaporates off of my body,
and your voice fades from my ears

i pray that day will come
though i'm not sure that i can withstand
the weight of another seven years