s. r. garcés
trigger warning: manipulation, trauma, sexual references
I can’t control it.
It doesn’t matter
How much I want to move on.
Trauma runs through my veins.
The fear lingers
Over me
Like a stormy cloud.
I can’t laugh away their manipulative words.
I can’t wash off his hands on my skin.
I can’t sleep away my loneliness.
I am drained.
Exhausted.
I can’t pretend
That I’m okay.
I truly am a broken doll,
A puppet.
I can’t cut off my strings.
They’re still wielding them.