Friday, June 27, 2014

The Anneslee Poems: Heart Scars

I remember
your hands –
how soft
they looked,
how hard
they felt
my skin
over and over
as they slammed
into me,
trying to mold me
into something
or someone
more like you.

No one ever knew
what those hands could do.
Not like I did.
Not like I do.
Because let’s not pretend
those hands
don’t still leave a mark.

Your handprint
isn’t just a memory to me,
but rather a scar

I’ll have long after you’re gone.

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