When I stood
before my mirror
I put my hand down
raised to touch the moon.
Still, I say it's beautiful!

She liked how the carpet felt,
Scratchy against her cheek,
And how its texture grounded her to reality
When her thoughts were sweeping her away.

She sought after the smell of salt water and sand,
One deep breath in through the nose,
And her anxiety would slowly subside
As she listened to wave after wave crash against the shore.

She lost herself in soundtracks and sonatas,
The mournful requiems,
And the notes guided her along
To understanding the emotions she couldn’t put into words.

She collected novel after novel,
A colorful bouquet of covers and the crisp black of the text,
And she could never part with them
Because they painted pictures better than her eyes did.

She coveted the taste of hot coffee,
Sipped slowly and purposefully,
And how it forced her to take time for herself
Despite her propensity to skip the present in favor of the future.

your touch is why I survive
the very thought of you makes me smile

Brian Hill - 2020 # 264

We know how much you mean to us
Do you ?
or does it hurt to the touch
or anger you up when you think to receive it ?

Let it not be a human love to be made real and welcome
seek again, but for the love that's found hidden
in the proof behind the pain where we be warming up
to who you really are beyond it all

Human touch.
I crave it.
But can’t have it.
It’s so hard being this alone.
A sound.
A smell.
Can make me want.
An accidental brush against my breast is enough to keep me wanting.
I lay awake at night forcing my legs together,
hoping it’s enough to keep me at bay.
I could take care of myself,
but no one will be there to hold me when it’s over.
My weighted blanket can only do so much.
I may feel weight pressing down on top of me,
but there’s no arms to hold me.
I can’t lay my head on my chest and hear my heartbeat.
I can love myself all I want,
but my ears still aren’t hearing the words,
“I need you.”
“I want you.”
“I love you.”  
I can love myself all I want,
but it never seems to be enough.

Take away my feelings,
You take the
press, **** and poke,
the nudge, palm and *****;
my caress, hug and tap,
my hold, tag and grip.
where's embrace, wrap and push,
entwine, rub and clutch;
                 and more.
take a glance, paw and grasp,
a nuzzle, scratch or clasp;
an itch, clench and handle,
my entangle and ******
all gone... all lost.

They have taken away my touch,
Making it hard to say Good-bye.

Every smile,
every touch
and every word
we ever shared were
poems unto themselves.