Flinches

One touch, an uncomfortable sensation Two touches, moving swiftly away Three touches, begining to panic Four touches, the flashbacks begin When the only touches one has received Were from the hands of abuse and assault And the very notion of being touched Associated with violence, anger, and selfishness Will I ever be able to open up to love? Will I ever be able to unlearn years of trauma? Will I ever be able to feel my fantasies? Will I ever be able to forget the horrors? Their faces all flashing through my mind Like reels on an old video player One of them leading to the next Enough to fill the whole slideshow The times where the privilege of my body Was robbed by men, simply because they were stronger Stained into my mind, anger and sadness Wanting revenge, or wanting to erase it all forever These flinches are what have killed my soul