when the past comes in the form of a hallow man
do not touch me
that look in his eyes
with one look at me
hes ripped through the layers of my dress
walking by he holds the door
touches my hand
looks some more
makes me feel so small
and i cannot escape him
clothed himself
in spiritual robes
but i see through you
as you graze my back
take advantage of my celebration
solitary confession
a man of God
what title has he really earned
I was basking in my daisies
protecting what he’s come to burn