It’s said that the human body replaces itself
With entirely new cells every seven years.
In seven years, I will be free from your touch.
In seven years your fingerprints will
No longer be burned into my skin.
In seven years I will be able to
Wash my body and finally feel clean.
In seven years I will be able to kiss
Without getting sick in a cold toilet,
Sobbing sobbing sobbing,
Because my tongue tastes of you.
In seven years, maybe I won’t
Lock my bedroom doors,
Fearing a monster that lives
Not under the bed.
In seven years, one more woman
Will pretend to feel free.
Nov 25, 2024
Nov 25, 2024 at 9:14 PM UTC
It’s said that the human body replaces itself
With entirely new cells every seven years.
In seven years, I will be free from your touch.
In seven years your fingerprints will
No longer be burned into my skin.
In seven years I will be able to
Wash my body and finally feel clean.
In seven years I will be able to kiss
Without getting sick in a cold toilet,
Sobbing sobbing sobbing,
Because my tongue tastes of you.
In seven years, maybe I won’t
Lock my bedroom doors,
Fearing a monster that lives
Not under the bed.
In seven years, one more woman
Will pretend to feel free.
Request permission to use this poem