In summer’s heat, sweaty hands explore stolen territory.
Like a rock weighing down swollen heart, the moment freezes.
The witness, never to be brought before a court, weeps
As the bathroom clock ticks again.
Every second is another word
Scratched onto fresh death certificate,
Being signed by the self proclaimed judge who deemed me deserving of this prison.
Skinning me alive, alive, touch by touch, falling apart again,
Never to be truly put together.
Rough, cracked lips burn sagging shoulders, sullen from defeat.
Broken screams go unheard,
Disconnected mind escapes the jail,
Filling the air with empty thoughts of “why?”
Suddenly, with a knock, it is over. The jury is in.
Experience is boxed up, filed into a room in the back of my brain.
Not for long, however, because every day history repeats itself.
Reliving, becoming a victim all over again.