i flinch every time i am touched

because i think it is you,

the way your wet fingers


up and down my leg,

and underneath my breasts,

knotting them through my hair.

i still feel your touch in the


that leave me screaming

in the empty darkness. honey,

the way you said you’d

dress me back up

and sew me back together with your


stitch me with your


but still left bruises on every

inch of skin.

you said i love you through

a grimace,

spitting it out at me.

but i think it was all just lies

to make me believe I was something


than your little

play toy.



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