Where Your Hand Was

Have you ever been groped? I hope not. Because the pain in that touch stays with you years after it’s over. 


Your eyes crawl all over me

Your breath makes me feel nauseous

Your eyes look dull as you grope me

And I’m left with the imprint of your hand

Long after you took your share

And I feel dirty, as if the grime in you

Has somehow spread to me

Where your hands squeezed,

Leaving me too sad to cry.


Where your hand was,

There lies my pain. 

And though I hate myself for it,

Because I know it isn’t me, but you,

I feel ashamed.


8 thoughts on “Where Your Hand Was

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