I feel his ghost
Come back to haunt me.
He touches me in places
that leave me cold and feeling soiled.

I concentrate hard
to push the memory away.
But it lingers,
strengthens and wanes.

It robs me of my sexuality.
It robs me of my joy.
When I least expect it
it comes to ruin my day.

Thirty years later
He still can touch me.
And I feel his hands
probing, penetrating.

Entering me, burning tearing,
Leaving me in pain
Bleeding, dirty
Filled with his shame.

I hate what he did
A part of me wants
To push it away
To not remember.

A healthier part knows
I must remember
Roll it over, bring it back
Healing in my mind

I allow the feeling to surface
To re-experience
What he did to me
So many years ago.

As I remember,
I clean out the wounds,
the dirt and pain
He left behind.

As I heal
I reclaim what was mine
And never hiss
My life, my body, my feelings,
My self.