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by Elliot Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Drama · #1870708
Not sure about the rating. About someone dealing with a traumatic event.
I can still smell him on my hands,
I've washed them twenty times now,
Soap, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner,
Nothing gets the smell out, I still feel him there,
I'm tempted to try bleach but I figure that might burn,
Then I think, at least I'd feel something different.

I don't care enough to hurt myself though,
I don't feel, care, think or need enough,
I don't feel anything right now, I'm stuck in this,
I don't want to be stuck with my own mind,
I don't want to be anywhere else.

My room isn't my room, my bed is not my bed,
My flat is something that is mine no longer,
Now it's just another life, I can't picture me here,
The person who owns this is not here, not returning,
It's as if I don't quite fit, that's what he did to me.

He ripped me to shreds and cut me to pieces,
He took away what I didn't realise I craved,
He toyed, took advantage and broke something,
I can't feel this right now but I can,
I don't feel anything because this isn't real.

This sort of thing doesn't happen to actual people.
© Copyright 2012 Elliot (draco_rivron at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1870708-Monster