Thursday, July 27, 2017

sometimes you wonder

                  sometimes you wonder why he lets you touch him

                  that night he scrubbed your hands clean twice,
                  and you still see blood
                  stuck deep in your pores.
                  your battle-worn tongue doesn’t say the truth anymore:
                  that you are ruined.

                  and you wonder why he lets you
                  — the butcher
                  touch him
                  — the sun

                  —im a prisoner to who i once was

[by r.j.e.,
found here]



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