your body will sting when you remember his hands
and you'll start contaminating your skin with the touch of strangers hoping all remnants left of his finger-tips fade away
self-love sounds like a foreign language since he walked away
but loving yourself is a process, long overdue
his name is not a synonym for contentment
I know there is a longing deep within your bones and it feels as though he's the only person who could satisfy it
this is your body whispering that it is time to love it back
you are allowed to lay down your weapons and give up the war with yourself