II
I tugged on the cord
expecting the snap
Waited tempestuously
for the rebound back
A smack, a burn, a cut
that all seemed to heal..
Just wanted so desperately
for something to feel.
Battered, bruised, and broken,
my scars were not of flesh
But my eyes remained windows
to this ever-burning brush
Each time I reached out,
my hand had been smacked.
Every heart that I touched,
another lash on my back.
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