touch
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WpMetadataReadComplete Wed, Aug 20, 2025<5 mins
I want it ,but I don't .what does it mean , touch?. these are my actually feeling on being touched and to touch people whether platonic, sensual or sexual.i both hate and crave this hence this poem collection .I hope you can relate :)
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Prologue: Before the storm, there was softness. There was laughter in quiet cafes, late-night calls that turned into early mornings, hands tangled in each other like roots learning how to hold. There was a boy who made me feel seen, and a girl who still believed that love-real love-could be enough. We weren't perfect, but we were in love. The kind of love that feels handwritten by the universe. The kind of love you bet everything on, even when the odds start to shift. But the thing about love is that it doesn't unravel all at once.
It frays. Quietly. Softly.
One skipped detail. One unanswered question.
One moment of doubt that grows roots while you're still convincing yourself everything's fine. This is a story about that unraveling.
About the ache of being almost chosen.
About trust that cracked before it broke. But it's also a story about resilience.
About finding your voice in the silence.
About choosing love-not just in someone else, but in yourself. Because sometimes the greatest love stories aren't the ones that come easy.
They're the ones you fight for, walk away from, and learn to return to with open eyes. This is not just a love story.
It's a reckoning. A healing.
A reminder that sometimes, even in the aftermath, love still finds a way back. And this time, it's real.

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