Every time someone touch's me I flinch..
I set back I step back and gush..

I fall in love but they shouldn't get to know me much..
If I get too exposed, I end things and run back to my bubble..

Not from mother nor from father, "Love" was never spoken to my ear..
perhaps that's why I cannot say the word even at this year..

So many knives at my back and face
Now when they give me a flower I wouldn't know what to make of it.. I tend to destroy both the giver and the flower in a quick defense fight..

Bricks at the base, stones at the top, plastered in sound proof cushions..
The walls I had built to show how strong and independent I was..
And the rules were to always cry and scream inside..

But then after all these years,
Someday, somewhere, someone told me,

Baby girl,

You hate being touched but you wanna be held tight by someone who's never gonna let you go..
You run when they find out more but you only wanna be found as a whole and kept warm at heart..
You cannot say LOVE until you hear it enough in your ear to believe it is a word that people say to each other..
You never know what to do with a flower but you don't really need flowers when you are the whole garden which you never get to see..
And these bricks and stones never made you strong or independent, they only held you higher so that nobody could reach you to harm you..

And then it hit me.. what life have I lived?

and now... I wonder..

What should I regret? Who I've become or who I would have?

Who should I forgive? Who I am or Who I would have been?

© Arya-nada