The end of the touch
The touch came quietly
And I was sworn not to tell
his hands were so cold
I can’t forget his smell
I tried to get away
But he held me with force
His breath smelt of booze
And his voice wispy and hoarse
I cried only at first
As hatred grew inside
I remembered one thing, KARMA
As he boasted with pride
It started at age 6
And it continued on
I
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Huggles,
Jessi
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