I flinch.

False consensus effect strikes again.

I'm not afraid of your touch. Fear has no position on the playing field.

you recoil, my body like a stovetop to the touch.

I want to melt away the pain in your eyes, but your tears have a head start, dousing the flame that only shown for me.

I want to explain, but the beginning has left no trace. 

For some, affection is like a casual Friday.

comfortable. a t-shirt and a pair of familair blue jeans.

I wish I could give you casual Friday affection.

The plague of worthlessness covers my body like leprosy.

"Unclean!"

A disease of the mind.

How do you teach a girl to love if she never has received it.