I have heard
that sand exfoliates
and that water cleanses
I have felt the pain
of scraping rocks against my skin
To rid myself of me
To remove the history
off of my fingertips
Who I am
hates the person I have been
though I liked the thought of myself
In your arms
Some nights I stay up and cry
hoping the tears will make me an ocean
to drown all the memories
and the salt will rub against me
Like a snake
I will shed my skin
and soon forget the
warmth of your touch
In 7 years
I will not find
a speck of you on me