Museum of Broken Relationships

August 24, 2016

I touch my body as if it a museum of you

I slip my fingers inside me to feel

The place where you once were.

You slid your hands across my skin like I was made of metal

Like I am not entirely fragile, made of glass

Like I can tolerate anything more than gentle touching, gentle kissing, gentle everything


When I left you, I told you you couldn’t break me but

I lied. You left me so shattered that

I had to cover the five mirrors in my bedroom with sheets because

Every time I saw my body I felt like it was yours

And not mine

Even when I left you, my desire still ran rampant

No matter how horribly you treated me

I was still aching and horny at night

Body begging for your touch

I felt like a monster for needing you.

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