The Warmth

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.