Every day, I take good care to scrub you off of my body.
Every day, I forget that scars don’t wash off.
The day after it happened, I remember my tears falling along with beads of water down my face
And I hope you felt it.
I hope you felt the gut wrenching pain
And the black hole in my chest, ******* me into myself to deal with the loss
And the unbearable denial that you were really gone.
I can’t even look at your sister’s face without seeing yours
And I’m moments away from a break down whenever she walks by me.
Does she understand why?
Did you tell her what happened and why someone I considered my friend has become an outcast in my life?
Please, dear, tell her how your words flowed gracefully from your mouth as they ravaged me and ripped me to shreds.
Your words have left scars on my skin.
Every day I try to wash them off.
Every day I remember that they won’t.