No one ever tells you
that the little things will stick.

The sound of his voice when he was stern.
The feeling of his large hands on my arms.

The smell of his aftershave clinging to me
after every forced hug. He always held on too tightly.

Suffocating my being. Squeezing pieces of my heart
out of every single pore.

Outlining the existing cracks in my soul.
And now, he smiles, while I remain stuck.