There isn’t a word that coincides with the way I feel about the memories that are now so distant and smudged from the tears I’ve shed over them. I took myself apart for you but you always glued me back together. Now that glue that once held me so close and tight is no longer there and I feel myself falling apart. I want to undo the memories but they’re already molted and screwed into my mind; you can’t repair something that has been burned. One time I took a match and held in to my skin and the only thing it burned away as the touch of your finger and left me with a permanent scar of where your hands once laid. Sometimes I wish I held it longer to burn away every piece of you left on me, in me. I know you hated it when I scrubbed my skin so hard it would blister because I wanted the touch of my gone innocence to no longer creep up my legs. Quite honestly, I have no idea what I’m exactly trying to write about.