I want to feel loved.

I crave the melting of flesh into mine.
Boiling pores and sweating fingertips
tracing my face.
I lace myself into your hair and make myself a nest.
I am safe,
but not for long.

For I will never feel safe again,
not in your arms,
not in the arms of any.
I am *****,
soiled,
used,
empty.

I am not a body of love,
No longer a *** of milk tea
on a cold day.
Watercolour stains wash away with water.

I am viper,
I am splinters,
hangnails,
and paper cuts.

I will never be soft again,
and it’s your fault.
I will never forgive you for that.