I was 7 when I learned the art of touch
but that doesn’t make me ******’s sister

I was 14 when I thought I figured out *** and love
were one in the same

so tell me why everywhere you touched me
I began to turn black like a the band of a fake ring on a child’s finger

I began to turn a colour I could not wash off
with soap and water

the darker I became the more you began to
smell of rotting meat left out in the sun

you were festering and the holes in your heart
burned through to your skin

sometimes in my sleep
I still smell you waiting in the darkness

and sometimes in the shower
I still find deep marks I cannot ever seem to get rid of

Everyone in this life might mistake the look in your eyes as love
But I will never be so easily fooled again

You told me to **** myself,
You dont know im already dead.
You called me names,
You brought me to Life or Death.
You made me use the blades,
You gave me scars,
Physical and Mental.
But i still survived,
Physical and Mental.
                j.b

Clutch, child,
Clutch with your diminishing strength,
Clutch with your breakable nails,
Clutch to your chest.

Clutch, child, hold it tight,
Before the nostalgia comes
And removes it from your sight.

Clutch the times, clutch the places,
Clutch Mother Gooses's wings,
Clutch Daddy knowing everything.

Clutch for dear life, your innocence,
Clutch all the things you've not yet given.

Clutch to your sweet heart
Whilst it's not yet tasted bitterness,
Clutch to your soul, dear,
Before it turns to heresy.

Clutch bright- eyed sincerity,
Clutch skinned knees and easy remedies,
And for the life of us, child, clutch me.