I have a thing for poetry and writing-

--Heart of glass, mind of porcelain.--

My heart it aches for the touch of another.

But not one like yours.

No, my heart cracks the moment your cold, rough hands meet my skins surface.
They send fearful shivers down my spine.

Your touch is one of a haunted house.

Dead, cold and frightful.

Your lips give unwanted kisses that leave my body shaking,
Your hands leave my heart aching.

Your words leave my head spinning,
But you leave my thoughts thinning. 

Regardless of the amount of soap i have, it never seems to cleanse me of it.

Regardless of the amount of sleep i get, i can never seem to chase away the thoughts of you near me.

But, no matter.

No matter the shatter of my heart.
No matter the spin of my head.
No matter the tears that fall onto my pillow at night.

I will find my way through the darkness into the light.

I will find it until you throw me back down into the yearn of anothers deadly touch.