a t o u c h

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touch deprived is she and yet, at the same time not.

she longs for those whom she cannot have.

it pains her, sends chills up her spine, to think that she might never be able to touch them; to know whether or not that they are real.

she touches those she loves; and longs to touch those who do not know of the love she has for them.

a touch is her escape from the reality of the pain of the fear that they might not be real.

a/n: hey guys, this is just something that i wrote out when i was journaling for my psychology class in school and going back and reading through it again i realized it's literally a whole poem and since then i've been really into poetry and emotional writing and stuff so that's what this book is going to be. i hope you enjoy :)

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