"I can be that little naive kid again."

💔
They sigh nostalgically
I inhale their sadness.

Gentle caresses on my back
I shiver.

Their touch
is both
blazing hot
and
freezing cold.

Firm gazes
when I am looking away

Invisible bugs c r a w l on my body.

They tell me that they miss their little five year old.

The five year old is gone,
I want to scream.

I'm here,
I want to scream.

Accept me,
I want to scream.

But I don't

scream.

Screaming is
tiring.

Bottling my feelings is
tiring.

Nobody hears.

Not now and not ever.