Seven years

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Scratching and clawing my own skin,
through it's not mine anymore.

I don't want to feel your touch.
I can't stop feeling your hands on me every day and night.

It haunts me, you haunt me.
Your face, the way you looked at me.

It was a joke to you, to steal what I value from you most.
My dignity and confidence.

Every seven years your cells in your body have replaced themselves.
What a wonderful thought to have; that my body would never,
Have been tough by you.

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