Tag: grey ace

there are places
i cannot look at myself
even when i am alone; 
please don’t
touch me there.

please love my naked soul,
please do not force
my layers off, do not force
my clothing off
before i am ready because
this body is the only thing that
i’ve ever been able to call my own
and i am not ready to
give that up yet; i’m not quite
ready to let you in.

i am learning how to grow
my own boundaries from
the dust that has finally
settled, and this body is
the only vehicle i can drive.
i am not quite ready to
share it yet.

i know you see beauty,
but the mirror paints stories of
pain and struggle and learning and
growing and scars and
bleeding
that only i see, and you can never
own that.

i don’t want to belong to
anyone but myself.

i cannot sell my body and
you cannot buy it.
i am scared to share something
i have only just learned to
love and care for because
with just a touch
you have the power to 
break it.

my body is the only thing i’ve never had to share with everyone and i cannot find it within myself to let go // a.s.m

a 19-year-old virgin,
i am broken because
the cover of ‘Cosmo’ says 
“20 tips for the best sex ever" 
and instead of it sparking
curiosity, i cringe. 

a 19-year-old something–  
something that i’m not quite 
sure of yet– 
i am broken because i am the only one 
in my group of friends 
who hasn’t given a blow job, 
i am the only one who doesn’t understand
what ‘horny’ feels like. 

a 19-year-old something: 
something i am growing to hate and
to be embarrassed of
i am broken because the words 
on the magazines don’t talk about 
soul mates or "20 tips for the best
heart-to-heart 3-am pillow fort 
conversations with your partner
ever." 
instead of wanting what is sold, 
i am longing for something that doesn’t 
seem to exist. 

a 19-year-old someone 
who has learned that
words can steal the roof off your home
and leave you
exposed
i am broken because 
they can pull you apart,
they can dissect you and stick you
under a microscope,
they can make you feel less than
whole. 

a 20-year old demisexual, 
i am learning
i am not broken because
ten letters can be the foundation
of a home, a family,
to knowing you are not 
alone. 
ten letters can help you 
find yourself.

for people who say labels are stupid: i want you to understand why sometimes they aren’t // a.s.m