sandpaper kisses - a poem by Nicole garwe
i said,
i said,
it no longer hurts,
it no longer burns.
but,
as I fall sleep
in the quiet of the night,
alone, with haunting thoughts
for company,
my hands shake,
my limbs ache,
and I remember,
the way he touched me,
with hand and lips
grating,
scratching,
itching.
sandpaper
against delicate skin.
alone at night,
appears
hemp rope wound
around
my neck,
squeezing tight
tight,
then tighter.
i open my mouth
to scream,
but i am only met with
familiar hollowness.
and i know
no sound will ever come
from me.
my hands shake,
my limbs ache.
“Hush,” He whispers
“Relax.”
in the empty dark,
He lies next to me,
And says,
“I’ll make it good for you too,”
and again, i ask,
was i supposed to say thank you?