Old Blog

For everyone who has written five poems so far or even one poem OR even thought of a concept of a poem, I am so proud of you. Let's keep being creative even when it's hard and what we write kind of sucks. So here's this: 


touch is stressful to me,
it’s always meant sex,
leading up to intimacy. 
i don’t understand casual contact,

if you touch me i’ll probably be confused
even if it’s friendly,
and platonic, 
and normal (whatever that means).

if i touch you you’ll think i’m into you, 
i probably am.
if I touch you everyone will suspect I fancy you,
even if I don’t. 

when i watch a father touch his child innocently
i see molester, rapist, pedaphile, 
where everyone else sees love,
what does that mean?

appropriate touch has no definition here. 
every brush, every graze is foreplay, 
a confession,
an invitation to a gala I don’t have a dress for.

I’ve never not fucked a man who has kissed me, 
if he holds me I will eagerly disrobe, 
drop to my knees,
be more than slick enough for him.

did you know there is a thing called touch starvation?
it’s basically a lack of healthy, affectionate touch,
I found it on the internet. 
I read an article that said 

“someone lacking healthy touch
is more vulnerable to unhealthy touch” 
and it made sense that someone (read: me)
who has lived their whole life

with only a certain kind of physical interaction
could equate all touch with sex. 
when he, my friend, places an arm around me
i try not to shy away,

I try to force myself to be normal
(fuck, what does that word even mean),
to not turn into it and make things a mess
because we are platonic, 

we do not want one another, 
but I am a programmed thing,
i am a starving internet diagnosis, 
so when he touches me I pretend 

it’s more than either of use bargained for.
I pretend we both want what we both need.