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#79837 - 10/08/06 11:28 AM touch me
Bobby Offline

Registered: 12/01/04
Posts: 1287
Loc: Arizona
Touch me on the arms just under the shoulders
Yes, the outer arms
Go ahead
Yes, right there
Lightly with your fingers
I'll stay here kneeling
Don't leave!
Just stay here doing it while I soak up the touch
While I let the warmth and tingle of it go through my body

I'm not strange or anything
It's just that sometimes
When things get lonely
You know, when you're feeling all alone
And people are walking by
Only they're not because they're in a sort of different world that you can't quite get to?
Sometimes when things are like that
If someone would just touch me just below the shoulders on both sides
Just for a second
Like two sockets, sort of, where the current could run through
Then I could feel somehow connected
Somehow there
Somehow part of something, you know?
Not so,
And lifeless
And watching...sort of...

So just do that for me, please
Don't think about it, or you'll laugh
Or run
Or tell someone I'm weird

All I want is to be touched
To know that I'm alive

That's not really strange

is it?

I'm healing now, and I wasn't sure I would.

#79838 - 10/08/06 07:52 PM Re: touch me
roadrunner Offline
Administrator Emeritus

Registered: 05/02/05
Posts: 22045
Loc: Carlisle, PA
***** possible triggers *****


Your poem brings back a powerful memory for me. The last time I was abused, the abuser had just finished and thrown me on the floor when the Scoutmaster walked in on us. I was lying face down on the floor - still dissociating so not really there - and I didn't see or hear him come in. I just heard shouting and angry voices, then I felt these strong arms around me holding me safe and saying, "Oh my God", over and over again. Then I realized I was wailing in this terrible way and clinging to him as well.

I was safe - he was holding me and I wanted him never to let me go.

I think even if we have issues with being touched that feeling of being held and kept safe is one we never stop wanting - and needing.

Much love,

Nobody living can ever stop me
As I go walking my freedom highway.
Nobody living can make me turn back:
This land was made for you and me.
(Woody Guthrie)


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