my soul has been
yearning
for hands like yours
when you touch me
it all goes away
so strong
so tender
but then…
the absence
of your kiss
the cut of your words
slices the
fundamental me
down into the dirt
where tender touch
can only revive
reawaken
in limitation
I grasp for acceptance
instead finding only
criticism
reflection brings
clarity
the touch was never
meant for me
my flesh a mere substitute
for what breaks your heart
disrespect
at turn after turn
both small and large
you belittled my very self
and all offerings
disapproving of so much that I did
most that was said
the very me that I gave you
in heart and spirit
it was never…ever…enough…
you pushed through the door
without so much as a conversation
or thought
of my feelings
knowing I held it sacred
you pushed beyond resistance
protestations
I was not even human then
just a shell
that is not
how to make me feel
like a woman.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
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