i wanted you to touch me was eager to teach you the curves and plains of my body
baring all those scars on wrist and chest and knowing you’d only look upon me with adoration and something akin to love
and maybe that was selfish of me putting so much trust in you but you were selfish, too
you wanted more than i was willing was able to give
and maybe you didn’t know what you were asking of me trying to put a time limit on the years upon years of ****** trauma i had yet to work through
and if my own hand was sometimes too much how would i react to both of yours?
i was trying to save you the burden of my choking on sobs when you touched me over the shirt and below the belt
knowing how quickly pleasure can turn to fear
and would you have been able to talk me down from the brink of being a scared little boy and back into the body of a young man?
and it’s not that i didn’t trust you not that i didn’t murmur your name not that i didn’t want to know what your mouth would feel like ******* hickeys into my collarbones and shoulder blades i just needed you to wait
that’s all i ever asked of you giving so much more than i ever expected in return and it still wasn’t enough
maybe i wasn’t enough? maybe you were unfair trying to pressure me into an intimate act that was a precursor to more to something i couldn’t handle
i wanted you to touch me but now i’m drinking away how your hands felt held in my own in my hair on my body
the memory the ghost of your touch is just one more thing i am trying to forget