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Touch
I miss the excitement,
I miss having arms around me,
As our laughs twirl through the air,
I miss the way a touch can speak, when words aren't enough,
How hands become artists,
Painting my body,
From head to toe,
Tracing my spine;
It made me feel alive,
But now,
I'm scared of being touched,
And not because their touch hurt,
But because of how much it hurts,
When their touch stops.
_Radha
© All Rights Reserved
I miss having arms around me,
As our laughs twirl through the air,
I miss the way a touch can speak, when words aren't enough,
How hands become artists,
Painting my body,
From head to toe,
Tracing my spine;
It made me feel alive,
But now,
I'm scared of being touched,
And not because their touch hurt,
But because of how much it hurts,
When their touch stops.
_Radha
© All Rights Reserved
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