Don't touch me.
Don't touch me like I mean something to you.
Don't run your fingers through my hair.
Don't lead me on.
Don't touch me.
Don't make me laugh.
Don't make me cry.
Don't. You've no right to control my emotions.
Don't twist my heart like it's play dough.
Don't pretend I am your disposable plaything.
Don't act like I am a joke.
Don't touch me.
Don't breathe in the same air as me.
Don't take away what little air I have left.
Don't pretend you don't know what's going on.
Don't suffocate me.
Don't touch me.
YOU ARE READING
Oleander-COMPLETED
PoesieALL RIGHTS RESERVED Her words were like oleander flowers, so delicate, like a gossamer spider string, but poisonous, like her scarred, despondent heart. *in other words, my crap poetry that is still really important to me*
