Have you ever tried so hard
to scrub someone off your skin?
Afraid of leaving a single finger print
somewhere on your body.
Knowing that in seven years
all the cells will be regenerated
and not a trace of their touch will be
left behind.
Not having the time to wait
because the ghost of their hand
on the small of your back
still haunts you.
The chills consuming your body.
Enveloping your skin.
The same old tears welling up in your eyes.
When someone so new and so kind,
places their hand on yours you flinch.
The layer of residue left from
the person that stole
your trust,
reacting with their
foreign fingerprints.
Your skin can no longer
recognize good intentions.
May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 7:16 AM UTC
Have you ever tried so hard
to scrub someone off your skin?
Afraid of leaving a single finger print
somewhere on your body.
Knowing that in seven years
all the cells will be regenerated
and not a trace of their touch will be
left behind.
Not having the time to wait
because the ghost of their hand
on the small of your back
still haunts you.
The chills consuming your body.
Enveloping your skin.
The same old tears welling up in your eyes.
When someone so new and so kind,
places their hand on yours you flinch.
The layer of residue left from
the person that stole
your trust,
reacting with their
foreign fingerprints.
Your skin can no longer
recognize good intentions.
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