Every man I loved and trusted took something from me
my sense of self
my sense of belonging
my ability to trust
a sense of security
my peace of mind
bits of my soul
They took and took.. and I being foolish, naïve and desperate to be loved, let them.
I walk through life - now - a scarecrow, hollow, stuffed with dry dead straw, barely waving trespassers whenever the wind blew with ragged tattered empty sleeves, armless.
I don’t need my hands anymore, I have nothing left to give.