Healing the wounds

I've heard that a broken body will heal, but a broken mind takes time.  I think that's true.  My bitterest thought is you.  I see your hands, they were large and rough.  I see your eyes blood shot.  I remember thinking of them as beautiful, once.  I remember how it felt to make love to you, once. 

Now, I remember the chemical smell of the alcohol.  I remember looking into your face and trying to make myself as small as possible.  I remember the white powder that seemed to permeate everything in that hell hole you called a home.    See I not only remember, but I relive it, night after night.  The sweat that drips from my body, the screams that rip my throat open...  those are my memories now.

I saw you the other day.  In your cheap suit and your fancy car.  You never could put two and two together.  Didn't know the difference between straight rot gut and good whiskey.  You looked my way and a funny thing happened, I realized how easy it would have been to kill you, right where you stood.

I have to talk myself out of entertaining that thought...

The End

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