Touched


I am afraid of love.
I know that no one could handle loving me,
I know that I cannot handle loving them.
If I could love would I etch lines of hate into my body?
Would I drag razors across my skin,
Opening myself up to the demons to come rushing in.
No one can understand,
When I bolt upright in my bed at night, sweat running off my body,
You have not touched him,
But I have licked my tongue over the pills that take life,
I have held them in my mouth, allowing them to burn, scald,
to scream until there are no sounds left to make,
I have spit them out, chocked on them, thrown them up.
I am different now,
I have touched death,
Welcomed him, wanted him
I have run from him,
I have seen the dark, hollow soulless monster that he is
But he catches up,
Grabs you with sharp, skinless fingers,
And as you gasp for air he holds you down,
Until you are soulless like him
That's when I wake up, and you don't know how to hold me.
That's why I'm scared;
You can't save me from myself.

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