Untitled poem *tw*

I know it’s only a memory
of the feling of his touch
the ghost of his scent
still clinging to the air.

But my body doesn’t know that.

I don’t feel safe.
I feel trapped
beneat the weight
of remebering.

The memory of hishands.
His musk.
My screams
My beggin.

All of it
ignored.
Unansered.

And him
taking
and taking
until there was nothing left
but me

ugly,
broken,
destroyed,
damaged,
ruined.