three letters, one word

you ask why. a simple three lettered word. why? yet for some reason i had no answer. you ask why i flinch when you touch me. its not that i despise the way your hand gently brushes mine, or the butterflies that swarm my stomach when you look at me. its not that i don't love the warm flush i feel when your hand rests on my knee or around my waist. its not that i don't find the chills you give me exhilarating. its not that the thought of you alone doesn't cause me to blush. its not that i don't love how perfectly your hand fits in mine, as if we were a clay sculpture, incomplete without the other. 

IM DAMAGED 

i can't tell you that i flinch because someone once tried to touch me like you do, but instead of a gentle caress, they attacked with malice and greed. i can't tell you that the same place your hand brushes, another hand has already beaten and bruised. i can't tell you that i was raised to believe that all sweet words are lies, and that i never believe you when you say you love me. i can't tell you that the thought of someone loving me sounds absolutely absurd. 

i can't tell you i'm damaged because no one wants damaged goods.  so instead when you ask why, i pause and contemplate releasing all of these thoughts. but instead the only the thing that comes out of my mouth is "i'm not sure."

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