We made eye contact.
And it was a gentle brush.
As if we were merely acquaintances.
As if my feelings had gone unsaid.
And I know the awkwardness is just me.
Because to feel awkward,
You would have had to care.

I noticed his hands today.
Nimble and full of promise.
Wicked and appealing.
I sat nearby.
Flustered and unfocused.
Each movement teasing me.
And he sat,
Unaware of the emotions he provoked.
The thought of his hands.
What they could be capable of,  
Swirls through my mind even now.
And I tremble at the thought,
Of possibly finding out.

I've never thrown a temper tantrum.
The thought itself it not unappealing.
However, I've never lost control before.
The idea of surrendering to an emotion
is unfathomable.
Because the question is:
If I relinquish control,
Will I be lost forever

I remember the cold hands that I pushed away Remember the crying,
The self-loathing.
The water that scalded my hands
As I washed them over and over
Nothing was taken except my
Peace of mind
And self esteem
I'm fine,
But I don't trust,
And I won't love
Because in that instance
In those instances,
Family failed me.
And a little girl was exposed to the world.

When thinking of Jon
The sadness breaks my heart.
I have a friend
And he is a soldier.  
And he is so young
And so beautiful.
And the thought
That I could never see him
Touch him
Talk to him
Steals the breath from my lungs.
Last we talked he told me
That I would be okay
But I'm not in danger.
And I will never know
If he is even alive
Until he contacts me.
Thoughts of Jon hurt
But forgetting him, would be worse.

I stood leaning against a mirror.
Watching my reflection,
And realizing,
I found myself pretty.
At some point,
My mental state had changed.  
I felt I looked different,
Or maybe was looking differently.
Instead of seeing each flaw,
I saw all the flaws at once,
Coming together to make something.
Something beautiful
And completely unique.

You tell me not to catch an attitude,
You tell me not to hold my feelings in
Every time I feel bad,
You seem to make it worse.
Trapped among  the
Selfish ways of man and beast
Or maybe man is beast.
Deaf to my screams of agony
And my thoughts that stream.
So I hide
And am chastised
Then I reach out
And am ridiculed.