Enclothed.

Wrapped in a warm hug

my

dressing gown embraces me

and I her.

“Mutual respect,” some may call it.

I call it love.

There is a boundary between my heart and the fluffy material;

My skin.

My skin protects me and embraces me and I hold her and that mutual love and respect opens my heart and I am vulnerable.

That vulnerability makes me empathetic, open and honest, but when those qualities are taken advantage of, the flower encloses into itself and I am entangled in my own thoughts.

I feel used, I feel angry, and most upsettingly, I can only think about myself as a result.

Gone are my embraces of friends through words and cuddles.

Gone is my love.

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