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Girl, Woman
December 24, 2012
I used to know a girl
who'd cut herself with broken pieces of 'father',
swallow them whole, then mold herself,
like wet clay, inside men's bodies.
All grown,
she'd bury herself in those layers of lovers,
searching for touch she didn't even remember,
thinking every other man's hands
would mend her.
Eighteen years of neglect.
She'd let those men run in, then out on her,
just like he did.
But every night,
she'd tattoo their silhouettes across her chest
so she'd never forget.
And I wish I had
hugged her more
when we were younger.
© Anonymous
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