The hands that touched my skin, 

So lightly yet so rough, 

They left burning flames on 

My back, 

It hurts. 

 

The fingers tangled in my hair, 

Making my scalp itch, 

Setting it ablaze, 

Leaving marks on my head, 

It hurts. 

 

Maybe I should shut my mouth, 

Keep quiet, 

Tied tongue, 

Sewn lips, 

Listen. 

 

I speak even though my tongue, 

Has been tied, 

Even though it still hurts, 

Even though I'd kept quiet for so, 

Long. 

 

The memory of those large hands, 

Trailing fire along my head, 

Setting my hair and scalp, 

Ablaze, 

It hurts. 

 

If only I hadn’t spoke, 

If only I hadn’t said anything, 

To the traitor, 

Everyone turned their backs, 

Leaving me withering, 

In pain, 

It hurts, 

My body that’s, 

Been,  

Set ablaze.