I WENT TO A FLOWER SHOP

I went to a flower shop;
it's the only shop I visit.
Coming alone wasn't a choice at first,
but accepting things is my hobby.

There came a stranger today;
the one who passed me a smile now.
I'm pretending to look at daisies
while I know he's staring at me.

When I see he's approaching me,
I turn around and start walking out.
The shopkeeper calls me out
asking me if I'm having a good day.
I smile in embarrassment and nod.
He knows I'm lonely as well as lying.
He asks the man which flower does he want,
I exit the shop before hearing his answer.

I know people don't stay with me.
I'm okay with me being alone.
So what if I'm touch starved?
I won't be persuaded by a man's attention.

I stop at the chocolate shop,
and realise I've forgotten my purse.
I hope the gentleman would have left
by the time I go back.

At the entrance, he was standing,
I cursed my destiny looking at my purse.
I knew he had no intentions of loving me.
I could just take my purse and get away.

He initiated, 'here's your purse.'
I smiled and thanked him.
He asked, 'so, do you live here?'
I nodded and waited for another question.

As expected, he asked another.
'Would you like to have coffee?'
Heard this question after a hundred weeks,
still I gathered myself, 'I don't like coffee!'

I stepped away but he proceeded with me,
'what would you like to have?'
His tone was the kind I like, so I gave in.
Giggled out of habit and chirped, 'Chocolate'.

He started talking while walking with me.
I answered everything he asked.
He asked if I liked sunsets,
I suggested him a park I liked.

We sat on a bench in the park.
He kept his hand in middle of us,
I kept mine on his and offered him chocolate.
He didn't pull away his hand and smiled.

He shifted a little closer,
I became more self-conscious.
I don't know how it happened
but his hand was on my waist.

I flinched but didn't say no, 'cause
being touched after years really felt good.
I thought not to think much
and rested my head on his shoulder.

We were talking all along,
I listened to his incidents a bit distracted.
All I could focus on was how soft his hand was.
All I could be guilty of was being touch starved.

He finally stood up,
I got up too, unaware of his talk.
He didn't seem happy,
I realised I was distracted much.

I met a happy stranger today and
No, I won't be the one to make him upset.
I asked him if he would meet me again.
He looked at me a second longer.

When he nodded, I felt an unknown feeling.
It was happiness I realised a second later.
I got upset with him leaving,
He hugged me, 'tomorrow, same time.'

The next day was better.
I forgot to curse my destiny.
We sat and roamed around as well.
Held hands while we laughed together.

I loved the moment we were having.
I was afraid whether he would stay.
I remembered how lonely I was.
The tears fell off my eyes, without asking.

He offered me his handkerchief.
I didn't know what to tell him.
He asked me what happened.
I couldn't help it and sobbed, 'Please hold me.'

He held me until I was okay.
I was embarrassed to cry in front of a stranger.
He told me, 'it's okay.'
And I knew he was a nice man.

I felt guilty of this very moment.
He thinks of me as a childish girl who cried.
He wouldn't have even touched my purse
if he were aware of the darkness inside.

After a few days, I started dressing up.
He had told me his likes and dislikes.
We sat on the same bench again.
He appreciated looking at my dress.

At some point, we were so close.
I realised he was about to kiss me.
I pushed him away by his chest,
and stood up, 'what are we doing?'

He didn't look confused, I saw.
He stood up and remained silence.
My voice faltered, 'what are we doing?'
He sighed, 'you tell me, what do you think?'

Everything appeared so blurry but him.
I tried to speak but my words had vanished.
He asked me to sit down.
I did and held his hand.

He pointed out to my hand,
'why do you want to hold it?'
I immediately took my hand back
with an expression called embarassed.

Before I could think in confusion,
he answered my unsaid questions.
I knew I didn't want to listen anymore
but I had always been so curious.

He told me how 'I' had made him talk
and then went for the intimacy.
He stated I intentionally left my purse
at the flower shop when I saw him.

He said, I gave him signs conveying
he could touch me.
When he asked if he could, I said no;
but he had listened to my body instead.

He told me how I had wanted to know
all about what he liked and disliked
He told me I had an urge
to get moulded into his life.

I tried to stop him and
just not speak any further
but all my head did was nod
when he asked me if he should continue.

He told me how touch starved I am
and lack the feeling of being loved.
I wanted to stop him but
either this or that, I just couldn't.

He continued on how I leaned in too
when he kissed me pulling my neck.
I felt that was him doing forcefully
but if it was forced, why didn't I slap him?

After he was done, he asked me
if I want to say something
I had to say that he- he can't-
but all I asked was, 'are we okay?'

He said he wouldn't mind talking to me
which I knew included touching me
His words felt like charity and pity
and I didn't need saving, that's what 'I' felt.

I wanted to be saved but with love
and yet, I agreed on him staying.
I knew I would regret it forever
but then regret has always been my friend.

I needed someone to listen to me
and I thought his pair of ears work.
I let my soul bleed whenever he scolded.
I'd apologise, as guilt isn't my enemy either.

I don't remember how he got into my life,
Honestly, I don't want to know.
I'd better stay in dilemma whether
he approached me or I instigated him.

I've confirmed his ears work,
but his understanding for me doesn't.
But his physical presence feels good
'cause being touch-starved is my main ingredient.

~Miss V