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Aug 2018
I've seen that look before.
I see it every time I close my eyes.
I see that look and my breath catches in my throat.
I see that look on every face that I don't want to see it on.

 I've felt that touch.
The touch that haunts me at night.
The touch that still coats my clean skin.
The touch won't disappear.
Like sharpee on dry erase.

I see the pity. The longing.
The lust. The hatred. The jealousy.
The dismissal.
I see it.

 I see it like the thousand scars marring my body.
I feel it like the fingers that dig into my flesh
As I cling to my sanity.
I stand back and feel them look at me and

And I scream it over and over and over again
And still no one sees me.

But I can't see me either.
I'm a prisoner of the past.
My freedom is bound in chains.
I don't let the sunlight stream in.
It doesn't warm me like it used to.

I don't let the outside inside.
I don't let the looks find me.
I don't see you so you don't see me.
I hide.

But you don't see that.
You don't see me.
You see you.
And all that you hate in you.

You see weakness.
You see fear.
You see lust.
You see shame.


 And it works out for you because only mine is on display.

Yours only comes out when you think no one is looking.

But I've seen that look before.
Natosha Ramirez
Written by
Natosha Ramirez  F
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