i used to think my love language was physical touch

i loved the feeling of hands intertwined  

the leaning of shoulder against shoulder

the stroking of hair strands behind ears

but

i don’t know when i started recoiling at the hand of another

i don’t remember beginning to tell people that i don’t do hugs

it became the usual

please don’t touch me

i hate flinching when people approach me

i hate paying attention to new people because they aren’t used to my boundaries 

i hate hugs

have you ever been so physically overpowered that you couldn’t breathe?

so desperate for air that you would bite and scratch and tap out 

but your lungs were still condensed inside of themselves  

you would begin to count how many seconds it would be until your bodily autonomy finally returned 

all of it beyond your control

your body out of reach

no choice but to endure and endure until finally they let go

you gasp and cough and scramble away

they laugh and say “i just missed you so much while you were away”

the ritual is mandatory 

a trap