So…***.

I don't have it. People never seem entirely surprised by this, I don't know.
Maybe my tell is my general blushy-ness around any and all cute humans, or maybe it's the way I yelp when they hug me too hard…

But it's not for lack of trying.

You see,
I am an extremely intimate person until my skin gets involved.
Then I'm all turtles' shells and touch-me-nots, shrink away, shrink away, hide, be small, be tame, be timid.
Or else like a wild animal - claws sharp, bite back, all fight and flight and defense.

I don't have *** - *** has me. Caught by the throat, a deer in headlights, no way to get away, stuck.

Stuck in his basement, seven years old.
The magician next door tricked me and changed my meaning of the word magic forever.
Never again would I put my faith in illusions.

But now, there's this girl, and she is so beautiful -
When I look at her, I can't see straight.
But she is no illusion.

She tells me she wants to help me carry my baggage,
But I don't want to tell her my baggage is a body bag
And it's me inside-
Choking for air,
And I wish it was because she takes my breath away, but it's not.

But sometimes, she does take my breath away.
And when she does, I want to tell her
Everything.

I want to tell her that if she holds me
Close enough,
Long enough,
I won't dare shrink away.

I will grow into her until we are bursting together,
Until we are bold,
We are soft,
We are free,
We are
Everything-

I never imagined I could be
with another person.
So close,
together,
We could be more than magic.