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The Franklin Post

Stop Touching Me Part 2

The vibrant orange blaze

Ripples burns across my skin

Flames ripping scars in its wake 

And cutting in

My seething blood seeping out 

And leaving the taste of metallic in my mouth.

The smoke rises

Choking my screams and encouraging my chance to hide this.

Starting all over again, inside my room

But it’s better than thinking of you.

To those who didn’t listen the first time,

This is stop touching me part 2.

Warning: this is where I plan to wash my hands good as new.

To anyone who thought they could touch someone without permission, this one’s for you.

It’s because of you that I want to rip the skin off my bones

With the hope that I’d never feel you there, again.

Disregarding the word no

And everything else I command with it.

But You’ve never felt my skin light up in fire

never knew what it’s like for that weight to

Crush in tighter.

Being ignored when you say,

“Stop it, now!”

Sitting in a classroom with your assaulter a few seats down.

Staying awake at night only wondering “how?”

Well, I’m done pretending I can burn off the layer of skin you touched, it’s more than that deep.

With these flames tearing through the roots in me

I need to burn them out

I have no more energy to apply the healing salve,

Because my scars are still there and I can’t ignore that now.

So with Title IX; unresponsive,

My control in a watered-down conscience,

I’m done.

I don’t care if everyone in this very room is telling me,

“I need to forgive you”

I will never forgive you for 

making a nine-year-old girl

Teach a grown-ass man how to

fucking behave himself.

But what am I to do?

When the only thing that seemed to put out the fire licking away at my skin

Is the sea of people who know what I’ve gone through.

Now let that sink in.

Every time a person used their voice, 

Told me that I also deserved that choice.

I’m done feeling like I’m only smoke and background noise.

This time I’m diving down deep

When I tell you to stop touching me

I’m ignoring the words you put on repeat

And won’t accept the lies of

yet another man considered untouchable

Unlike me.

So I’m here with the waves that drown out the shame, as I water the flowers that bloom out of my mouth.

Sprouting on the tip of my lips.

their unraveling folds, spreading out to the brink of it.

Growing out of my charred skin, 

repairing the damage conflicted within, and encouraging reconciliation in my skin.

I’ll let their thorny stems twist around your necks and strangulate any doubt of power left

Then drag you to the garden beds 

and lay you to rest.

I’d now like to direct my time to any survivors left,

Take these words I’ve conveyed.

And know that yours

Whatever they are

Are not mistakes

Don’t let anyone stop you from blossoming out of the rain

Know that you are taking pain

And turning it into power and something brave.

Know that it’s for your sake.

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Stop Touching Me Part 2