my body still aches.
when my mother hugs me
i tremble.

i don't like being touched anymore.
it reminds me of your hands
like spiders crawling
under my clothes.

i was so small
and you were so much bigger.
get your voice out of my ears.
saying
'Let it happen.'

in seven years, all the cells in a body
are replaced
which means
in six years there will be no part of me
that you ever touched.

i am counting the days
until then.