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valhalla
here is what happens:
you touch me, and i spend weeks
scrubbing my skin with boiling water
trying to scrape your fingerprints off,
though they still stay with me like tattoos.
you call out to me, and i can no longer hear a kind word
without remembering your filthy voice
or seeing your lips curve around my name
marking me in tones of shame and fear.
i see you and fear strikes in my chest
deep and potent, tearing breath from my lungs
and i hasten my steps and clench my keys in my fist,
tight enough for the metal to bite into my skin.
you speak and your voice drags razers across my skin,
gashing open dazzling carmine with throwaway words
and you bask in the color as i bleed out,
believing it was for you all along.
i am done being soft,
and i am done being delicate.
i am furious, and i am unstoppable.
i will not forgive you.
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i am filled with righteous anger. i will not allow myself to be hunted. i will come for you like you came for me, and i will strike you down with burning glory, and destroy you.