honeysuckle: poems by colleen cosette goodman

starve my heart of touch and time

and after her, there are no girls.
the slip of their dresses across skin, silky hair, and overall straps against chests
My heart is a dark thudding pit of lonely;
I think of the girls I see on the bus, at work, at school,
I think of the girls who will not love me, how I refuse to let myself love them, for I know the dry-mouthed rejection, the scraping fear of predatory.
girls are gooey with their bodies and their hair and how they look in the sunshine. girls have ruined me and thrown me to the bottom of the loneliest bottom, but it's me whose shoveling the dirt in my eyes.
this constant queer loneliness. the feeling I get reading the Tumblr post telling me i may be alone forever. I miss the tender embrace of a girl, her soft and her warmth.
My body does not know how to accept touch - I've been so starved it no longer recognizes something so essential.
I hide under blankets and in trains. I cry when the woman at yoga massages my temples with slick oil, when someone holds my hand.
Someome touching me. someone pushing my hair over my ears, sweet whispers. I'm afraid it will never be.

The twenty-second of August, 2017.

Lol this is so bad but I need 2 get my feelings out u feel

The title is from DKLA by troye sivan