Your presence always sucked the air out of the room
and your touch began to scorch me.
Any part of you touches me,
even accidentally,
makes my body lock up
and my mind scream.
I didn’t know why
until a surpressed memory
broke free to tell me
why my body responds this way.
It wasn’t
the way you
left a hand print on my face
every time you were angry
or the bruises you inflicted
just because you knew you could.
No,
it was the way
your hands touched me
in places I should NEVER be touched,
with such ill intent,
as you stab me with labels:
Whore.
Slut.
Prostitute.
This is why
I can’t bear
to have you touch me.
Jynx Frostbyte 