Links / Buttons / Diaryrings Trust Your Instincts / Creator of Speak Out / Current Facilitator Guestbook / Notes / E-Mail Previous / Next / Current / Archive Add an entry My body is starved, yet is repulsed by touch. I want it and loathe it like the one last piece of fruit that's gone moldy. Any touch, especially the thought of being touched opens up a can of worms I can't close again: The bad has forever contaminated the good. Will I ever enjoy being touched again? I have the right to good touch, yet can't bare to be annihilated by merely being touched. My skin feels like a bad body suit that won't come off. I want another one, a cleaner one that fits perfectly and makes me feel good again. The skin I have has too many ugly fingerprints that won't wash away. I have to live with the stains of the annihilator's touch, yet crave a beloved's touch to wash the rest away. I'm hungry. - 2008-06-27 Relating To A Postcard - 2008-06-26 Sexual/Assault - 2008-04-04 so easy.. - 2007-03-20 here - 2006-10-14 |
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