tears fall onto the floor,
as memories from those nights
come back to me
the smell of cheap liquor,
marijuana,
and cigarettes
clog my nose
and the familiar feeling
of old rough hands
touching my body
sends goosebumps across my skin
my skin isn't my own anymore
he took that from me
the first time he grabbed me up
and wouldn't let go
he took my innocence,
and with that,
he took my dignity
i haven't seen your face
in two years
but that look in your eyes
is burned into my memory forever
the look on your face
each time you made your move
is something that i'll never forget
the smell of your cologne
the way it lingered in the air
after you made your way
out of the room
will burn in my nose
till the day i die
YOU ARE READING
dysphoria
Poetry"it's a lonely road, full of tired men" - gale song, the lumineers my stories are true but will you listen
