Published by: Keshia Gwyneth Esposa
Date Published: October 17, 2025
Time Published: 6:15 PM
Category: Poetry
Subject: Lost innocence and the struggle to accept affection after trauma
There was once a time
when your arms were a harbor,
and I docked there without question,
letting the tides rock me to sleep.
Back then,
the water spoke in lullabies,
and I believed storms
were only stories told by the wind.
But the years came with rusted anchors,
sinking holes into the vessel of my trust.
From that broken tide a fortress rose,
stones lifting out of salt and foam.
I grew like a wall,
brick by jagged brick,
mortar made of fear.
I wandered onto roads I never wished to walk,
and what they revealed
still lingers in the hollows of me.
Now even your touch
feels like salt in a wound,
and I hate that I flinch
at the hands that once held me steady.
I want to return to your shore,
but the map has burned,
and I am lost at sea.
But there was once a time...
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