He Touched Me

I was touched,

touched by a man of sin.

A man who continued to strip me apart

with no mercy.

He touched me.

It was as if he didn’t understand no.

I yelled no,

I said no,

I whispered no,

I thought no,

and yet, again, he touched me.

He let me words disintegrate along with the strength that,

the strength that used to belong to me.

The only strong thing left

was my fear,

the fear that I could never be dear and near for the man of sin would come again,

fear that no one would ever hear the drop of my quiet tears

because of the man of sin.

He touched me.