Touch (For National Poetry Month)

wish I could get it
someway, somehow
touch...
a hand on body warm,
skin on skin
warm, inviting,
not carnal
but comforting,
cuz I've got fears
and tears
and years of stuff
to sort through,
and that hand,
your hand,
helps to heal me,
your hand is
powerful
its intrinsic value
immeasurable,
says so much,
wordlessly...
your heat, soothes
aches buried,
waves rising off of you,
telling me
what I need to hear
all that lies deep
behind your eyes,
at the core,
so please touch me
let me feel you,
let me hear those
unspoken truths,
or are they lies
you tell me cuz
you want to assuage my fears
hips dont lie
but bodies do?
But I need you
to make it right,
to make me feel whole,
cuz there's this hole
in my heart
and I'm no good at
patchwork,
mending fences
blending minds
reaching deep
coming up with garbage,
garbage in, garbage out
...what is good?
right? wrong?
acceptable?
play it safe,
safety in numbers,
comfort in few,
turning things upside down
brings clarity,
at the eye of the storm
in the quiet of this topsy-turvy space,
no debris flying
eyes wide open,
silence so loud
thoughts can't help but scream
"I'm still here" "Fix Me"
"You can't escape"
"Deal"
can't ignore the sound of truth
just deal - repair the collateral...
instead of band-aids
learn to sew stitches so beautiful
that scars are invisible

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