Do not touch me


Do not touch me

The tight cascade built around a limp body shrivels progressively with each and every interaction.
Each suppressed insecurity,
their gateway,
now tainted by ambiguous fingers or a forgiving embrace.
A pool of boiling discomfort tops off only after persistent ‘no’s and ‘stop’s are rejected entry to my opponents severed canals.
Even forgiving minds neglect these cries,
and quickly,
are substituted for more understanding words
‘she’s just kidding’.
Fearing of opening skin-deep emotions,
exposing each nerve to open air,
it cannot and will not be done.
Cannot let them know of the continuous internal maim that accompanies each neglecting touch or feel.
Sexual or not
it is unwanted.
The relevance of your persona does not alter the independent thoughts accompanying my crown.
Whoever you are
Do not touch me.

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