'Kiss'

After a second... it came back to me... like waves on a beach. Slowly at first... then almost instantanious. Damn it felt terrible. I could feel the acid creeping up my throat, burning it lightly. I didn't want to think about it. My hand went to my head. It wasn't enough to block out those images. He continued to talk to me, but I was lost inside the memories... the memories of 'kiss'... I remembered how unemotional it was, how I didn't truely want to, how terrible it was to 'kiss'. I remembered how it was molestation, infestation, descrimination. I remember their face, her face, always the face. After everything had ended there was always 'kiss' and it never mattered what it was or when it ended. Never had I ever wanted to 'kiss'. No one ever deserved or should have me. I did not want to give that to them... it was my own need to become what was expected of me which made me give. In another way, I too had wanted to learn to enjoy 'kiss' as they had. Never did I succeed. In some dark, dank place in my mind I had locked 'kiss' away. Nothing was to touch it. 'Kiss' wasn't wrong, it just wasn't like I had wanted it to be. 'Kiss' to me was like losing some part of my virginity and not being satisfied with the results. It was in this dark, dank place I had returned to and was sitting in. Although 'kiss' was no longer here, I still could feel the terrible scars on the walls from the chains I had forced around it. In my other hand the voice on the phone could feel it. I turned over in my bed and rested my forehead upon my pillow. I didn't say much of anything. I asked for one thing, a song. Any song. And so he sang to me, but still I couldn't escape my mind. After he end his song... he reached into himself and showed me something that was so powerful and yet so frail. Part of himself opened to me and I was unable to speak to him. I felt like a tyrant. What I felt was how unable to show emotion I was. I don't cry often if at all, but today all I wanted was to show my emotion... and I couldn't even cry. I couldn't do it. Who would want a rock like this? He often asks how I put up with him... but how can he put up with me? How can he continuously open to something that can't even give him the same? I am afraid to feel, and yet that is what I do most. I feel it too. I feel it too. There are a few ways that I can show what I feel and only you are allowed to have them. Please, forgive me, because that is who I am. I am here. I am a rock. And you are allowed to hug the rock. Hugs are good. But I know something that is much better...