there’s a word for this
cringing twist away from others’ hands
haphephobia
the fear of being touched
I’m not always afraid so much as
I’m wary of contact
but it might as well be a fear of water
when you’re dying of thirst
I’m so touch starved you could call me
emotionally emaciated
my feelings jutting out from underneath my skin
like brittle bones
too much too fast would be worse
than the starvation itself
I don’t know how to accept touches anymore
or how to tell what they mean
quenched thirst versus clenched jaw
I’m lost in a sea of
please (don’t) touch me
haphephobia [poem]
