It was a fuzzy dream
And an even fuzzier memory
I was sitting in the abandoned palor
And I felt a kind of warmth…
It may have been the teal, foggy air
It may have been a human hugging me
But no matter what, it wouldn’t go away.
This warmth..it was everything to me.
The warmth was a symbol of validation
It was a stroke of the hair,
The helping hand,
The compliments from disgusting men,
The and all of the unwanted touches that came from them.
The warmth was worth
And attractiveness
It was a perverse call from the void,
An unneeded obsession.
The warmth was a body
Pimpled,
Torn,
Fattened,
that turned into anorexic perfection
This warmth was a want to be displayed
The want to feel like a desirable prey
The warmth was the highlight
Of my day.