I want rest
From your hands and fingers reminding me.
Is that too much to ask?

I know that you think I am cold,
Unconcerned
With your needs,
But sometimes your touch
kills me,
And I wish it were okay
To ask you to
stop.

I am sorry that I’m broken,
That sometimes I need the space
To stick myself back together
Before you slowly melt the glue away
Again.

Don’t you think it hurts
Me
Too?