My Story

Sometime last year

I have taken seven showers
In the past two days
I don't remember what it was like
Before you crawled into my skin
Making it your own
I don't remember how I used to think
I don't want to anymore
All of my thoughts are clouded by
Images of you slicing through my memories
Like a knife in soft butter
You are the knife
My skin is soft butter
It's been a year
I still feel your presence
When I wake abruptly
Panicking
I can still feel your fingers
Pressing into my windpipe
Pleading it to stop working
Begging me to stop working
I believe I've stopped working
You helped me notice
All the things within myself that
I long to forget
I cannot forget